Soulbound
by WishMaker7
Summary: Sure, Marco may have saved Star from a terrible fate at the Blood Moon Ball, but when he ties his fate to Tom, Marco ends up finding out more about the demon than he'd anticipated. Alternative ending to the episode "Blood Moon Ball" and subsequent AU created. [Small Hiatus]
1. Chapter 1: Selection

**Chapter 1: Selection**

* * *

I heard those words echoing through the speakers:

"It is my pleasure that I request you now to turn your heads skywards, when the light of the blood moon bubbles down and selects two lucky souls, binding them for eternity in its hypnotic, ruby brodum."

And in a way, I panicked. Since the moment he showed up, I'd been suspicious of Tom's motives. Star would speak to me time and again what kind of a jerk he was for dumping her, his temperament, and all-in-all sour attitude. She couldn't say enough about how bad he was to her. So here he comes back, courts Star back for _what_? To… To bind their souls for eternity?! To catch her while she was off-guard and… then what? Make sure she could never leave? Was it a marriage ceremony? A curse? Like I would really know all of Star's alternate-dimension customs, let alone Tom's.

The one thing I knew I needed to do was to protect Star.

From the piano, Tom seemed to be returning back to Star. I took my time to hide between the guests and call out to her. She didn't seem to hear. I reached my hand out to try and get her attention, but a partygoer – of course, made out of slime with a suit slapped on – had to cut in front and block me out. He moved out the way slowly, just as Tom was about to reach her.

He called her name gently as I wriggled out from between two girls. The red crescent crystal above gave a daring glint; I knew I didn't have much time, and I knew I was running full-speed to catch up to her, and I knew I couldn't slow down in time to easily convince her to stay away. It didn't work when I told her not to go, so I was sure it wouldn't work now.

In a blur, I closed my eyes and pushed my hand out. On the other end, a soft silk lilted against my fingertips, and I made sure to push it as far away as possible.

And against my eyelids, a red light washed down on me. On… On us.

A hand had gripped my extended arm by the wrist, as if to grab hers, but had taken mine by mistake. I heard fabric bend and crease as it lured closer to me, felt a breath caress my ear, and a dulcet voice whisper, "Open your eyes." And slowly, strained, I did. Tinted with a ruby hue and black shadow, my eyes met… the three eyes of Tom, skimming my gaze across his shoulder to his hand that was holding mine.

Why… was he holding my hand? Why did he… whisper in my ear?! But I was speechless as my eyes met back with his. I could hardly breathe right.

I looked around for reassurance – for Star, and amid the crowd, I saw a glimpse of her – of her anger, her shock, happiness, and relief, all in one. The group of monsters quickly ate up my view of her. They spoke in hushed, feverish voices about the skull boy now with Tom – now… bound for eternity.

Bound for eternity…?! I looked back to Tom, aware he was capable of a swift and terrible anger and yet… I didn't find any on his face. He had a sly, cool grin, his eyes filled with expectation. "You ruined my night, y'know that?" He asked in a voice that wasn't upset. "All over what? A spill? Someone knocked into you or something?"

My breath hitched. He slid his hand into mine and properly brought me to his eye-level. I still shrunk down nervously immediately after, my hand rubbing my shoulder, and he chuckled.

"What's wrong? No need to be afraid." He let his hand slip away when I jerked it from him, but there was still no sign of anger or contempt. I don't think he recognized me.

"But…" I started in a small voice. Everyone's eyes were on me – the guests, the emcee, Star, _him_ and all _three_ of his eyes… "You said that I… I ruined –"

Tom gave a small chuckle. "Don't worry about it; shit happens. Plus… between you and me," He brought himself close to my ear again. "I don't think my date wanted to be here, anyway."

I grimaced. He really _didn't_ know I was the jerk that karate-chopped his hand off, did he? I tried to change my voice up when I spoke to him. Not that that went well, or anything. "That… That sucks."

"Yeah…" He shrugged. "But you… you seem interesting." His hand reached down to mine again, and this time, he laced our fingers together. I felt my face heat up, flush redder than the light beaming down on us, and I couldn't help but whimper. What the hell did I get myself into?!

I felt the folds of my shirt brushed against my back, and all at once, his other hand pressed against my back, pulling my waist close to his. The air between us was so close it was suffocating, our noses not even an inch from one-another.

"Well, these folks are expecting a dance, aren't they?" That same sly smile came across his face. "I mean – I'd let you back out if you weren't cool with it, but this _is_ the Blood Moon Ball, and they're kinda expecting a dance by the Blood Moon Lovers."

'Blood Moon Lovers'…?! _hat_ did I get myself into?! This panic I had, but with a lot more swearing, piled up as a nervous smile on my face, and eyes that he couldn't see were truly mortified. Instead of letting my screams out, I nodded. "I… I see."

"You a good dancer?"

"S-Somewhat…" I murmured.

He gave another small laugh, content with this, and gave some distance between us, keeping our hands locked and to the side of us. I looked past his face to the crowd, seeing as much as I could without turning my head, and I realized I really _wouldn't_ get out of this without a dance. So I rested my arm along his, my hand on his shoulder.

He gave me a reassuring smile, and… it really felt sincere. "Just relax. Don't be so nervous, okay?"

"I…" I tried to collect my voice. "I'm… just not supposed to be here… in this. I hit you two on accident, and –"

"Then just pretend I'm the date you came with. I'll take you back to them after this; I promise." I couldn't just tell him I didn't _have_ a date. Instead, I just nodded again. "So just relax. Breathe. There's nothing to worry about."

I decided to focus on his words. I hardly realized we'd begun to move together in a slow rhythm. "But… there are so many people, and… and they're all watching me…" I admitted, turning my head away. If he didn't know that I was Marco now, he wouldn't know that Marco's socially anxious, now would he? So I figured that information was safe to drop. "What if I mess up my footing…? Or… Or tumble again like I did just now –"

"Hey," He interrupted me in a gentle tone, and I looked back up at him. "Don't focus on them. Look up here at me, okay? Look, just me and you in a dance all our own. Nobody else is here, okay? Just you and me." He gave me a small twirl, and I looked down again as he took me. I could see the others' shoes, and that dread filled back up in me. Tom's arm on my side shook me, and I looked back up at him. "Hey. Just you and me. Breathe. Like, right now. Breathe…"

I took a deep breath, keeping my eyes on him like he asked of me, and I had to admit, I felt a little better. He gave me another small smile, and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. And as I focused on him, the dim lighting around the other guests really did make them fade to black, in a way.

The music swelled as we moved along the dance floor, and for the little while we had, I felt comfortable around him. Even if he was lying, even if this was just a cheap tactic he used with everyone he flirted with, even if this 'nice guy' routine was a ruse, I enjoyed it. It took out some of the anxiety of having snuck into the ball without anyone's permission – his or Star's. Just so long as he hadn't found me out, that is. And as the music faded into the end – my two eyes on him, his three eyes on me – I felt… really peaceful. Even if it could've all went to hell afterwards, that very moment felt so nice. He gave me a gentle dip as the music ended, and the audience applauded.

His face was so close to mine, and his eyes were lidded. Although I saw it coming, I couldn't react as his lips pressed against mine, even it wasn't a hard kiss. It wasn't full-force, it wasn't harsh, or painful… like I thought it would be. But what it was… was my first kiss, and I admit I indulged in it a little bit. It _was_ my first ever kiss; might as well make the best of it. My eyes fluttered shut and my hand gripped into his shoulder. I was doing a terrible job, I knew it, so I let him handle the technique.

The audience swelled in further applause, some cheered. I could feel Star's shocked eyes watching me – watching _us_. But he finally pulled back and I finally breathed. I didn't even judge how _little_ I was breathing until I gasped out for air again.

But Tom chuckled, pulling me back up. "You know, you have to breathe through your nose when you kiss someone, right?"

"I… I, uh…" I fumbled, face red.

"That's alright. But I, uh…" He let go of the hand locked with mine to scratch the back of his head. "I got a little carried away there… Tell your date that I apologize."

"I didn't… have a date…"

His eyebrows furrowed, but not in suspicion. Rather, it was in a sort of surprise, and pity. "No? Well…" He took his hand off my back just to slip it into my hand as he knelt down, and he kissed it. "I'm honored to have had this dance with you." He gave a small bow, resting his other hand across his chest, like a sort of salute.

As he got up, he must have noticed how _red_ I really was, as the light from the blood moon crystal above us faded. He gave that small laugh and pet my shoulder.

"You're so nervous…"

"Well… yeah… You… You kissed me in front of everyone…" I mumbled.

"Well, you didn't come with anyone important. So… it's not like it matters who saw."

I smiled a little and looked down, arm rubbing my shoulder again. "I… I guess so –"

"Marco~!" I felt another arm loop around my other shoulder. Star stood between Tom and I as a sort of fleshy wall. "That was some dancing you did there! But it's really getting late." She spoke in her usual bubbly voice, but as her back was to Tom, her eyes facing me spoke desperately to get out. "We really should be getting home so your parents don't worry about you!"

"Oh… I…" I looked past her to Tom, who was trying to get a word in with her, a confused look on his face. He looked up at me with pleading eyes. But I had to listen to her, get my moment getting chewed out for ruining her date, and all-around get out of this situation before it all boiled up. I looked back at her. "Yeah, it really is getting late. We really should –"

"Okay good! Thanks Tom for the nice ball come on let's get out of here _bye_ ~!" She said in rapid succession, faster than anyone could process, simultaneously grabbing my arm, hauling me off to the probably-Satanic chariot and taking us home.

I looked back at Tom to see his eyes full of longing.


	2. Chapter 2: Him Again

**Chapter 2: Him Again**

* * *

"Brian."

"Yeah, Tom? And might I say: great job handling that moment out there! Where he butted into you and Star's dance and you had to dance with him! I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah… Anyway. Did you catch what that guy's name was?"

"Ah… um… Marco. That's what I think she called him. Marco."

"Marco…" That same kid that defended Star from me. _That_ Marco.

"Well… reschedule my anger management session at eight and make it four. I'll have to meet back up with… _Marco_ again."


	3. Chapter 3: A Decision to Make

**Chapter 3: A Decision to Make**

* * *

"I cannot _believe_ you crashed my date, Marco!" Chewed out; I knew I would be.

"Star – I… I was just trying to protect you…"

" _Protect_ me?! Marco…!" She put her hands on her hips and huffed.

"He said that your souls would be bound forever! He was trying to trap you, Star! Trap you! And after he left you all those months ago, too."

"And look what happened now! Now Tom thinks you like him over a stupid _phrase_!"

My expression dropped. "A… A phrase…?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Of course it's a phrase, Marco! 'Binding them for eternity'? Come on! The Blood Moon Ball is hosted every 667 years by Tom's family – I mean, they're demon royalty! And every time they use that stupid phrase with their stupid crystal and their stupid spotlight to… to _goad_ poor girls and guys into thinking they have to be with him forever!"

I had to sit back for a minute to let the thought sink in. "So… So he wasn't gonna force you to marry him or… anything crazy?"

"No! No he wasn't! It's –"

But before she could continue, two familiar losers came crashing into my room. "Yo~!" Ferguson was yelling.

"So, Marco. Word along the grapevine is that _you finally got to dance with somebody_?!" Ferguson shook my shoulders. I backed off, glaring at Star.

"What? He was hanging around your window when you were changing into your jammies, so I told him you'd finally danced with someone!"

"Star! You know telling them this kinda crap makes them think they have every right to barge into my room – naked or clothed, rain or shine – and ask about it!"

"You guys did that when I kissed that fairy chick…" Ferguson murmured.

"So who was she?!" Alfonzo grabbed my shirt with an almost-wild look on his face. "Was she pretty? Was… Was it… _Jackie Lynn Thomas_?!"

I flushed bright red. If only… "No, it wasn't Jackie Lynn Thomas! It wasn't even a person! It was a demon!"

"A demon?! Yo… whoa… dude I hear they're mad cute." Ferguson mumbled.

I rolled my eyes. "Where did you hear _that_?"

"They're like… succubuses right? Mythology book say they're hot."

"Ferg!" I grit my teeth, turning a brighter red. I had to get one fact straight, but I didn't like it. "He was a _guy_!"

The two of them went silent. Star, by then, had sat down on the windowsill, arms crossed and looking away from me. So she wasn't really all that mad, just annoyed.

Ferguson broke out again. "You danced with a _guy demon_?! Dude, I can't believe this!"

"So he was an incubus, then." Alfonzo chimed in.

I rolled my eyes. "No, guys! He was just… just a normal guy with horns… and three eyes… and gray skin… He was nice, okay?!" I huffed, feeling horribly embarrassed. At least they didn't know he kissed me…

"Nice? Marco, he's bad news!" Star finally spoke again. She marched back up to me. "You said so yourself why it was a bad idea for me to go to the ball with him! He's a creep and a jerk! He says something and means something else! Crazy anger issues, remember? Literally becomes an uncontrollable ball of rage?!"

"Sounds like you really knocked one out of the park, Marc."

I rolled my eyes in response to Ferguson. "Star… maybe I was wrong about him."

"And maybe you were wrong to throw me out of the blood moon's light, huh?!"

"Star, I _know_ I was wrong for doing that! I didn't know that he was _really trying_ to fix his anger. I thought he was the same jerk that dumped you."

"Ugh!" She groaned loudly, "And he _is_! He's still a jerk through and through, Marco! Even without the anger. It's not even his outbursts that make him terrible! It's everything else!"

"Star…" I started, but I didn't want to fight her. She knew more about the guy than I did. Maybe he _was_ playing me, hook, line, and sinker.

I didn't get to finish my thought as, right in the middle of my _bedroom_ , a portal opened up with a familiar flaming coach, drawn by a skeletal horse. The door was kicked open by a dark leather boot, and Tom emerged from it with a 50s look – the leather jacket, white shirt, and jeans. He had his three-eyed sunglasses as he stepped out, hands in his pockets.

Ferguson and Alfonzo gave each-other this _look_ , because now they _knew_ who this 'guy demon' was.

And Tom gave me this _look_ , because now he knew who he danced with, who deceived him. He'd danced with that jerk! Marco Diaz! He'd kissed that jerk! Marco Diaz!

I couldn't tell his expression past his shades. I couldn't tell if he was upset, or neutral, or ready to explode on me and unleash his demon powers fueled by anger. I backed up as far as I could, Star pulling out her wand, arm shaking, as he leaned closer to me, like a predator ready to pounce on me.

But when I was pushed up against the wall, he took off his shades, his eyes… warm. "Sup, Marco."

"T…Tom."

"You ran off so fast with Star, I… didn't even get to say goodbye." He said with a voice _just_ pricked with hurt.

"Well… I was nervous. I said –"

"You did that whole thing to protect Star, didn't you? Shoved her out of the way, then pretended to be some dancer who tripped or something?"

"Actually…! You made that suggestion, and I just kinda… went with it…"

He frowned. "So, you didn't like our little dance?"

"No!" I interjected. "No, no no! It was nice! I…" I rubbed my shoulder and looked down. "I really liked it… It was… so, so nice. I felt so… comfortable when you reassured me up there – I-I haven't been center-stage in… forever!" I indulged a little too much in the praising, admittedly.

"So… I helped you?" He sounded so proud asking that.

"Yeah…" I smiled a little, hand rubbing my arm. "You really did…"

He smiled and looked away. And even though he could clearly see Star and Fonz and Ferguson, he didn't pay them any heed. "So I was thinking, maybe…" He scratched the back of his head, blushing black across his cheeks and nose. He took a moment to open his mouth again. "Maybe you wanna… go on a date with me…?"

My heart jumped. My expression dropped, as did all of us. Alfonzo and Ferguson looked at this guy demon with eyes wide and mouths agape with surprise. Star had her mouth agape with shock, awe, and… suspicion.

"I…" I fumbled over my words. Star said he hadn't changed, but he looked so sincere and inviting. And in spite of all the stupid things I said about him, I didn't really _know_ him myself. He's when you're talking to your friend about your day and they complain about this guy that nearly fender-bended them. Or he's that guy that your friend said took too long at the checkout. I heard about him, but I didn't know for sure.

But he was a demon. I could hardly care that he was a guy – but that he was apparently a jerk, and, y'know, a _demon_. His smile melted down to a concerned frown. "Was I too forward…?"

"No…!" I squeaked out, voice still caught in shock. "I…! I just need time to think…! That's all…"

"Oh…" He gave a sigh of relief, a prickled smile touching the edges of his cheeks. "Well… when you decide, Star knows where to call me. You can tell me then, okay? Even if it's a 'no', I promise I'll be cool with it, okay?" I nodded. He leaned in closer to me again. "It was nice seeing you again, Marco, and without your mask. Because…" He leaned in and kissed the mole on my cheek. "I really like that thing you got there."

He stepped back into his chariot and exited back to his dimension as my face went through fifty shades of red. I touched a hand to my burning cheek, traced over the mole.

"Bro…" Ferguson finally spoke back up. "I think _that_ was being too forward."

He liked my mole… People always thought I was uglier with it… "So what are you gonna do now, Marco? What're you gonna do now? You gonna say yes? I mean, he kissed you, man!"

"Marco!" Star had finally calmed down from looking at him too long, and finally put down her guard. "What _are_ you gonna do? Marco? …Marco?" She shook me, snapped me back to reality. "Marco… you okay?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah… And… I don't know what I'm gonna do, honestly. He's so nice… but… _he's a demon_. Like…! How's that even gonna work…?! How do I not know I won't blow up from the times he's kissed me already?!"

"Wait wait wait wait…" Alfonzo interjected, looking at Ferguson.

"Times? With an ' _s_ '?"

"Oh jeez…" I slapped my forehead. "Yeah, times. He… kissed me at the ball…"

"On your beauty mark?"

"No! On the lips…! On… yeah…"

"Bro!"

" _No_!" Alfonzo grabbed my shirt again. "Your first kiss was with that demon guy?!"

"Shut up, Fonz!" I pushed him off me, their excitement dizzying. "But yeah, it was… It was…" I looked over to Star. "You don't think I should date him?"

She had a hand on her hip, her wand to her chin. "I don't know… Marco, I don't think he'd try to hurt you outright. I don't think that's what he's really… shooting at. But… I am worried." She sat down by me, effectively shooing Alfonzo away. "I mean… even if we're both wrong and he turns out to have changed into a really nice person, someone could just throw a can at him while he's having dinner with you and he could snap. And, like I said, he doesn't have any sense of who he is or… who _anyone_ is when he's angry. He could've dated you for a year and he could hurt you like a stranger. And hurt you badly! I don't want you getting hurt, Marco. Not over him." I sighed, held my shoulders, and slumped. "Just… do what you think is right. I mean, obviously I haven't said all the good things about him! Who knows! I could be wrong. What did he help you with yesterday?"

"He calmed me down from a potential anxiety attack."

"See! There you go!" Her smile faded quickly and she sighed. "I want you to be happy, Marco, but… just like how you worried about me at the Blood Moon Ball, I'll worry about you."

"Even if it's obnoxious and possibly-destructive?"

She grimaced, then nodded. "Yeah… maybe."

I sighed, then nodded. "I understand…" I gave myself a moment to think. "…Star."

"Yeah?"

"Bring Tom up on mirror phone."

I walked down the stairs with her, my best buds following close behind, as she used the interdimensional mirror to ring up Tom's dimension. He had his back to us, fixing his shirt.

"Tom…?" I chimed in gently.

He fumbled over his clothes and nearly fell over on something, but he turned around, looking flustered. "Marco! That was quick. Look, I don't want you to feel pressured, so if you're making a rush decision –"

I smiled. "Tom, it's okay. I made my mind up."

"You…" He seemed taken aback. "You did?"

"Yeah. How's… tomorrow at eight?"

He was flushed a deep black. "Tomorrow at eight? Y-Yeah… sounds great! I can do that. I can do eight… You… You want me to pick you up or…?" He pointed to Star.

I looked to her, then looked back. "No, you can pick me up. I'll be waiting outside the house, so your horse doesn't scuff up the floor."

"Oh! Sorry about that! Shoot… Sorry… I'll be there, I promise. I'll give you the time of your life, Marco."

I laughed a little. "We'll see."

"Yeah." He smiled. "Until then?"

"Till then." I couldn't ditch the stupid smile on my face, even after Star cut the transmission.

Ferguson and Alfonzo practically tackled me to the floor. "Bro! We have _got_ to get you looking fresh for tomorrow!"


	4. Chapter 4: Preparations

**Chapter 4: Preparations**

* * *

I was shaking. Today melted into tomorrow, come and gone; I hardly got any sleep. Star's words had been echoing through my head. His anger, his attitude… I was worried.

I woke up with dark circles under my eyes, and panicked in the mirror because of how horrible I'd looked. The morning went by with bouts of anxiety riddling through me – how everything could go wrong, how terrible I could look, how I could _die_ from the food – not even because it's Hell food, but I could choke on my own saliva when I'm nervous, so food could easily do worse. But I had finally been asked on a date. _Me_. A _date_. I could easily mess it up, knowing how bad I was all-around with romance.

The day passed with me walking in circles or laying in bed, trying to fathom what Alfonzo and Ferguson would bring to the table when they'd help to… 'dress me up' before the date. It was mostly uneventful. I ate a lot of pita chips.

I was in my own thought throughout the day, so much that Dad worried about me. The day was beginning to dim when he'd noticed me so quiet, not even lazing the day away with TV. Just me, but… without the pita chips. I had too many pita chips.

He sat down by me and gave my shoulder a gentle shake. "Marco, mijo… are you okay? You there?"

"Huh?" I looked up at him. Without anything to eat, my silent self in my quiet thought seemed almost zombie-like. That was only like me after an attack, so of course he'd worry. I gave him a reassuring smile and a nod. "I'm okay, Dad. Sorry I scared you."

He gave me a small smile and pat my back. I curled up closer to him as he put an arm around my shoulder. "What's on your mind, mijo? You haven't been speaking much today."

"I, um…" I giggled, reflecting on exactly what went down last night. "Dad… I… yeesh…" I put my head in my hands. "I… I have a date tonight…" I murmured, voice muffled.

"Really! Oh that's wonderful!" He shook my shoulder. "Is it with that Jackie girl? Oh I knew you were going for her! Finally got that bullfighter courage to ask her out, eh? I'm so proud of you, son!"

I groaned, looking at him with a face full of disappointment. "No, Dad… it wasn't with Jackie…" I muttered. "It's… with a boy." I was ashamed to say it. Scared, really, to say it. Since I was little, I've always had an in-and-out interest in boys, but… I never brought it up with my parents. I figured they'd be fine with it, but that paranoia that they _could_ hate me for it… it drove me away from ever saying. I've heard of boys and girls being told they weren't their own parents' son or daughter anymore just because of who they love… I couldn't bear to live with my parents feeling that way about me. What if he hated me? What if mom hated me? Said I wasn't her son anymore? Left me out on the street to die… I mean… Ferguson and Alfonzo eventually found out about me, but they never did anything about it. They never interrogated me, or teased me, or made me feel uncomfortable. It was a huge relief when the most they did was something like 'Hey, what about that guy there? He seems pretty cute, right? What do you think?' But my dad, my mom… they're from a different time when things like that… they weren't normal. Where having a kid like me meant that kid was _wrong_.

"A boy, eh?" He said in a quiet tone. My heart pounded, watching him think. What was he thinking? Was he angry…? Then he slapped me on the back and let out a hearty laugh, making me yelp from the sting. "Oh mijo, don't give me that look!" He threw his arms around me and rocked me roughly. "What's his name, huh?"

"His… His name? It's Tom…" I answered in a chopped-up voice, trying to process his reaction.

"Tom? That's a good name. But you never mentioned a Tom before."

"He's… not from school, Dad. I met him on one of my… excursions, I guess, with Star."

He nodded, rubbing my back where he'd slapped it. "Ah… I see. So… how is he like?"

I rubbed my arm and looked down. "I don't know much about him, really… Star went to a ball last night, and I went with her. But y'know how the music changes and then people exchange each-other in the song? It was kinda like that… and then I danced with him. So… after then song ended, he asked me out on a date." Well of course I lied; what was I supposed to say? That I crashed the party without permission and basically ruined the whole thing? "He's gonna take me to his dimension at eight, and… maybe I'll get to try demon food?"

"He's a demon?" Dad asked in a neutral tone.

"Ah… yeah…"

"Well, let's hope your food doesn't get burnt!" He jabbed me with his elbow. "Get it? Because Hell is fiery! Let's hope –"

"I get it, Dad… yeah… I get it… Well, Ferguson and Alfonzo should be here any minute now dress me up all fancy, I guess." I laughed a little nervously. They were gonna bring me a chicken suit; I could feel it in my bones.

He patted my back roughly again. "Well, don't look like you're three miles away, okay? Eight o'clock will come soon enough."

I nodded and gave him a quick hug. "Thanks, Dad." And with a last rub of my shoulder, he got up as the doorbell rang. "I'll get it." I got up and went over to the door briskly. Without even looking, I knew it was my friends from their stupid giggles and the subsequent loud shushing.

As I opened the door, before I even greeted them, they each grabbed one of my arms and hauled me upstairs. I screamed for them to stop, especially with their dumb giggling like they're _so_ good at catching me off-guard. They held me up a good few inches in the air after dragging me to my room, so my feet couldn't touch the floor while I kicked around.

"Marco, you gotta calm down! Relax bro!"

"I'll relax when you put me down!" I grunted, trying to see if I could bite one of them or kick them. They finally plopped me on my bed and Alfonzo went to shut the door.

But before he could, a bright shoe blocked the way. From it emerged Star, a sly smile on her face. "You ready for the big moment, Marco?"

"Yeah… now that these dorks finally stopped chaffing my arms." I took off my hoodie to give my arms some relief.

"But no dude, seriously. I got some sweet digs for your suit." Ferguson grinned. "You got a suit, right?"

"Yeah, I have a suit. It might still be a little big on me, though. I went to a wedding last year for one of my cousins, but it was really big then." I went over to my closet and shuffled through my clothes. Star took the time to throw my hoodie over to the side to make room for her on the bed. I pulled out the old suit, looking nice and fresh, undressed, and tried it on. The sleeves were a tad too big, but other than that, it fit snugly.

"Guess what I got~" Ferguson pulled a small box out from his pants pocket and opened it up. "Skull cufflinks, bro! I figured it'd add to the charm since you're gonna go to the Underworld and all for a date with a demon guy, y'know?"

"Oh, Ferguson…" I replied flatly, with a twinge of surprise at the end. "You shouldn't have…" The cufflinks, no doubt, looked very nice. But I couldn't help but feel they were a little… too much? "Heck, I'll take them. Lemme see." I handled the links in my hands a little, content with them.

Star hovered over my hands, inspecting them with wonder in her eyes and an "Ooooooo~!"

"What'd you contribute, Fonz?"

"I got you a red dress shirt and matching handkerchief."

"Oh… crap." I was taken aback. "How much did that cost you?! Ferg, how much did this cost you…?!"

Ferguson laughed. "Don't worry; those are my dad's, so they didn't cost me a penny as long as you return them. Oh! I also got you a little skull pin too, for your lapel." He handed it to me.

"Don't worry about how much it cost me, man, when the kerchief has a little devil design on it."

"Thanks guys… I…" I smiled. "Really appreciate it."

"You ready, Marco? For the _big_ night?" Star brushed up against my shoulder and rocked back and forth like she does when she's excited.

"I…" I gulped as I put on the accessories and looked at myself in the mirror. "I hope so." I combed up my hair to look nice, and put on a spritz cologne. Then another spritz. I may have overdone it with the spritzing, and I ended up in a coughing fit with a cloud of cologne hanging over me like death. After dispersing the deadly perfume, I straightened out my clothes and looked up at them with a wheeze. "How do I look…?"

Star came up to me with a sigh and a smile, straightened out my suit and draped a tie over my face. "Just add this and you'll pull the whole look off."

I nodded, flustered, fumbling the tie on. I ended up having to look through, like, six different Google images to see how to do it right. "Now?"

"Better. Come on now, Marco! Chop-chop! It's almost eight o'clock!" She grabbed my arm and dragged me downstairs and out the door.

She continued straightening out my outfit for another two minutes to get it _just_ right, then finally smiled and settled down on a rock, content. I looked back and saw my two dork friends giving me thumbs-up from my bedroom window.

A few minutes later, a portal opened in front of my house, and that same coach trotted out into the driveway. Tom stepped out in a red-and-black suit, nearly inverted of mine, still with his usual shades on his eyes. He took a quick look-over at my outfit, then at his. A black blush came over him in silence, before he burst out into laughter. I laughed with him, but definitely not as hard. He had to take off his shades to wipe a tear from his eye.

After he settled back down, he smiled wide at me. "You look…" He stifled another giggle. "You look great… I just didn't… expect you to look the exact opposite of me!"

"Do you want me to change…?"

"No no! You look beautiful. Look great… Lovely…" I smiled and looked away, flattered. "Anyway…" He extended his hand to me. When I took it, he knelt down again and kissed it. "Shall we, then?"

I nodded as he got up, and allowed him to take me into his coach. "Bye, Star." I looked up to Ferguson and Alfonzo and waved bye to them, saw my dad and mom in the living room window and waved by to them too. I had hoped Dad told her about where I was going… Guess I had to bank on it. "I'll be back later tonight, okay?"

"Oh no you have fun! Stay out till 3 AM if you have to!"

"I hope Ludo doesn't try and funny business while I'm gone…"

"Oh pee-shaw, Marco! I can handle Ludo all. By. My. Self!" She put her hands on her hips and grinned. "You just have fun on your date, okay? Promise?"

"I promise, Star."

Tom nodded at her and stepped into the coach to close it. He smiled over at me. "One way ticket to Hell it is, then."


	5. Chapter 5: Insecurities

**Chapter 5: Insecurities**

* * *

 _Fuck_ me and everything I stand for. I was late. Late by _two minutes_. Two whole minutes. I only hoped Marco wouldn't mind – I _prayed_ that Star wouldn't.

There was issues when it came to either of them, really. Star was a known. A really… sour known. I knew how much she hated me for dumping her. She'd probably already tried to convince Marco not to bother going out with me, because I'm a 'menace to society', or some other crap. I can't blame her, though… I really am a menace. But I knew that, so long as nothing fucks up within a 10% margin of error, I _should_ be good.

As for Marco… well, I hardly knew anything about Marco. All I know is how protective he is of Star, as seen my him chopping my hand off, and by heedlessly knocking Star away from me at the ball. He must be a pretty selfless guy, if he was willing to do all that. He also told me… how nervous he was all that time during the dance. He seemed so shy… but when he was around Star, he was nothing but confident and protective. I guess he was just nervous being in the moment.

Either way, being two minutes late could cost me a Super Magical Cupcake Barrage, or… something. I really did hope Star didn't try and slander me and my name behind my back after the ball.

After getting Marco in the car, I looked back to Star. Her eyes were… just what I feared they would be. They were serious, and seething. They were like daggers as I got in the coach myself, warning me that if I hurt him, there would be _worse_ than pain.

When we got through the portal, I tried to judge Marco's reaction as we descended to Hell. He looked out the window in wonder, with his hands pressed against the glass and a "Whoa…"

"You like it?"

"It's… not as fiery as I thought it would be…"

"Eh." I shrugged. "It's fiery enough. But that's because we're close to the estates. It's mostly stone around there. Definitely some fire pits here and there, but obsidian is usually the cut for high-end mansions and castles."

He grinned ear-to-ear looking around the windows to get a good look at everything as we passed by. Earth was so different than down here, so I imagined his reaction would be either complete disgust or… this. I was just relieved it was the latter.

God… he was breathtaking. His eyes sparkling against the moving lamplight, full of awe and wonder, his smile lighting his face up brighter than a lava flow.

But that smile faded after a little while. "Where are we going?" He asked, looking at the residencies as we passed by them. "I mean, the square looked like it was that way."

"Oh, no no. We're not going by the square." I shook my head. "The square has those small business restaurants, y'know? And although they're delicious places to eat at, I really wanna treat you something that screams Hell for you, y'know?"

A look of worry came over him. "You mean like… death?"

I laughed a little. "No, not like that. Not everything down here's about bones or death or fire. The places down this way are much more high-end, y'know what I mean? I wanna treat you tonight." I took a moment to look down, trying to fight off an up-and-coming blush. He was just too cute…! "Anyway, I can't help but notice how enamored you seem by the scenery around here. If you're not too hungry, do you maybe wanna… take a stroll around? Work up an appetite, y'know?"

"Oh, um…" He looked out and around. "Around here?"

"Yeah, around here. There's a little park here that we could walk around. If you want, that is. It's more of a scenic park than those sort of athletic parks with the hellhounds and the frisbees, y'know? It has a nice pathway and a forest in the back… a bridge over the lava river. It's nice, y'know?"

"I guess." He looked out the coach to see the red grass park with flaming trees and blood roses, expansive, distinct, and beautiful. He gave a small smile and looked back at me. "It looks nice… different, y'know? But uh…" He looked down. "I mean, isn't it all sulfuric out there?"

"No, not really. You won't get sick or anything out there."

He grimaced. "I mean… humans don't only get sick from sulfur… They… They can _die_."

"Oh…" I scratched the back of my head. "You should be okay. It shouldn't be bad at all. I mean, if you were gonna die from sulfur in the air poisoning you or whatever, it would've already seeped through the car and killed you by now."

"Well… that's… reassuring…" He murmured.

I smiled and nodded, glad he was relieved. "Well, come on." I opened the door for myself, then swung around to open the door for him. I took his hand to help him out of the car.

He smiled at me. "So we're just gonna walk around?"

I nodded. "Just… I guess… to talk a little bit. I mean, let's face it. I don't know much about you and you don't know much about me."

"That's true." He rubbed his shoulder, taking in a big gulp of air, because, I guess, if he was gonna die, might as well make it quick. After another deep breath, he looked over himself, satisfied that he wasn't on Death's doorstep.

"So… why did you agree to go on a date with me, then?" I looked at him curiously, then down to the hand I was holding. He had a little beauty mark on his wrist, too. I wondered how many more of those cute little things he had on him.

"Because… you were really nice to me during the dance, y'know? You saw I was panicking, and you didn't hesitate to calm me down. You seem like a nice guy…"

I smiled a little. "Even after what Star said about me?"

"How do you even know she said anything about you?"

"Oh come on, Marco. It's Star we're talking about. Y'know. Chatty gossip. I already got more than my fair share of slandering from Pony Head. After I broke up with her, I really _have_ been a demon to just about everyone."

He frowned. "What… What happened? Like… how bad did it have to be to get such a bad rep?"

I shook my head and looked down. "I don't… wanna talk about it."

"Oh… I'm sorry." He gave my hand a squeeze. "But it's okay. You're different than how you were before, right?"

"I've been trying. With my anger management specialist, and my bunny, Scamp. I should've brought him with me, really…"

"The specialist…?"

"No, Scamp. He's a funny little thing." I smiled, then I sighed. "I've been trying so hard to control my anger for the past six months. Like, I've come to realize what kind of guy I am – what I'm capable of. Well, I don't, but I know that I'm capable of _not_ knowing, y'know? And it's that not knowing, combined with the uncontrollable anger I get… I'm aware how dangerous it – and _I_ – am, y'know? I mean, it's _so_ unbecoming of a prince…"

"Yeah… that really sounds like it –" He paused for a moment, then looked at me with a confused expression. "Wait hold up hold up hold _up_." He waved his hand in front of me. "You're… a _prince_?"

With the way everyone in the kingdom knew, I forgot it wasn't common knowledge among Earthlings. I flushed a little and scratched the back of my head. "Yeah… I mean, how else would I have permission to date Star? Didn't I tell you?"

"No! I mean… how could you? You said we didn't… know much about each-other… But it's cool though! Just… y'know… on a date with a prince and all…" He mumbled. "Not much crazy about that. People've dated Hell princes before… not a big deal…" He finally looked over at me. "So… why did _you_ ask me on a date if you didn't even know me…?"

I laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "I already told you: you're interesting." We sat down beside a molten iron fountain. "Plus…" I put my hand over his when he set it down on the stone. "You're really beautiful."

Marco's eyes widened at this, then he looked away, a deep red blush on his face. "Beautiful…?"

"Yeah. I mean, what can I say? I'm a sucker for pretty guys."

He gave a weak laugh. "No… that must not be right… I'm not… not pretty. You got the wrong guy…"

I was taken aback hearing this. "No, I think I know a pretty boy when I see one. Who would ever make you think you're not?"

"Oh, well practically everyone in my school. I'm so low on the totem pole, I'm one of the school losers."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "But… you're not a loser…"

"I feel like one a lot…"

"But… why…?"

"I… I don't know. Nobody likes me, besides Alfonzo and Ferguson. I'm not popular or anything. In fact, a lot of the kids at my school actually _hate_ me. Throw things at me, shove me in a locker… all that stereotypical stuff I never thought would happen happened to me. Even when Star came and she was popular, everyone compared her to me, kept saying she's 'too good' for me." He sighed. "I figured at this point it had to be a lot of things wrong with me. I mean, you're the first person to ever _want_ to date me, _ever_. Nobody in that entire school found me attractive enough, or likeable enough, or cool enough for _anyone_ to ever wanna go out with me. I know it's stupid and irrational for a fourteen-year-old to think he'll never have someone in his life, but… I don't know, I look across at these groups of kids – big groups of kids, too – and I can't help but feel… lonely. There's a lot of kids dating each-other – I mean, it's high school. And I see them… when they hug and kiss, and I wonder why hasn't that happened to me yet? Am I not old enough? Am I just…" He gave a quavering sigh. "Am I unlovable?" He shrugged, his eyes glistening with… tears? "I mean… all these years being in the outs… I never thought I'd be good enough to be popular, or popular enough to go through the stages of high school romance like every boy should." He sniffled.

"Are you… crying?" I asked cautiously. These Earthling high schoolers sounded terrible.

"No, no… I'm fine." He sniffled one last time and cleared his throat. "Especially since Ferg and Alfonzo don't share the same lunch with me… I feel really lonely after a while."

I looked down, mulling over what he said. "Honestly, those humans of yours sound really fucking terrible, and they're missing out on a great opportunity, if you ask me. You're beautiful. A little awkward, hell, but that doesn't change that you're a good kid."

He gave a small smile, but it quickly wavered and he gave a sob. Man, I really fucked up, didn't I. "You're literally… the _only_ person who's ever called me beautiful… y'know that?" He sniffled. "Besides my parents, anyway… You're the only other person… who's bothered to say it." He buried his head in his hands to muffle the sobbing. "And you wonder why I feel like shit about myself… when there's guys better than me and more confident than me always with a big group of friends around them… around them all the time… always with the popular girls… and I couldn't even get _one_ person to call me beautiful till now…!" He let out a low wail, then quickly tried to wipe his tears away, claiming, "I shouldn't be crying about this… I'm just a stupid teenager with too many expectations…"

And that's about where I had enough. Every ounce of me was just so… _upset_ at this, but I wasn't mad. Sure, I was pissed about all those Earthling assholes who made him feel like shit, but I had a feeling a large part of his sadness was self-inflicted. I put a hand on his shoulder, with a gentle "Marco…"

"I'm sorry…" He mumbled out. "I just… I didn't expect to react so bad to this, myself…" He looked up at me with sorrow brimming in his eyes.

I used my thumbs to brush his tears away. "Don't cry… Look, it's okay. All of that? That was before. I've called you beautiful now, and that's the truth. And honestly? I'm planning on calling you that for a long time to come. If… well, if this goes any farther. But even if things don't pan out, know that's the truth. You are _beautiful_."

"Even with my gross mole?"

"Mole?" I gave a small chuckle. "Marco… You know what people down here call those? _Beauty_ marks. And that means something, doesn't it?" I pet his cheek, my other hand rubbing his shoulder.

He nodded, still locked up with that teary look on his face. "I guess…"

"And imagine what it's gonna be like when you go back and everyone knows you're dating that cute demon from before? Or look, if _I_ introduce you to _my_ friends and _my_ circle. I-I mean, this is all granted we do end up in a relationship."

He wiped his nose. "I get that…"

"And your two friends seem really supportive of you. I imagine they're gonna give you a hard time when you get back, huh?" I gave him a small smile.

He smiled back with a weaker smile. "Yeah… I imagine they will. They'll tie me up to a chair under a lamp and interrogate me; I know it." He gave a small laugh.

"They and Star, they appreciate you so much, y'know? You mean so much to them, so who cares if other people pass you by? You can't please every single person in the world – that's why people have cliques, y'know? Some cliques just happen to be bigger, and with a lot of connections between them. That just usually ends up being a lot of unnecessary space taken up in your contacts list, and a lot of one-word replies. I mean, I've been in the big crowds. And although it can be great, a lot of the time, I wish the group broke down into less people at a time, so there wouldn't be these stupidly long bouts of silence that you'd have to go through. It's usually just two or three people talking at a time, really. I think you and your group have that perfect group size, y'know? And on top of that, it gives you guys a lot of time to strengthen the friendship you have." I realized at that point that I was rambling, but I really did just wanna make him feel happy. I hated seeing him cry.

He nodded. "Yeah… you're right…" He looked up at me and smiled, said in a still-cracked voice, "Thanks, Tom… Thank you so much…"

"You're very welcome." I pet his shoulder. "Can I hug you? After… After seeing you cry, I really… really wanna give you a hug."

"That's fine…" He smiled, and I gave him a tight squeeze, rubbing his back gently. He gave a whimper, ready to cry again, but he swallowed it down and hugged me back.

I pulled back after a moment to wipe the last stray tear from his eye, then smoothed my fingertips along his cheek. I leaned in, heard his breath hitch in surprise, and kissed his oh-so insecure beauty mark. When I moved back, I saw his eyes reflect a small tinge of relief. "Let's get some food in you, okay?"


	6. Chapter 6: The Dinner

**Chapter 6: The Dinner**

* * *

I'd honestly felt very embarrassed about crying in front of Tom. He took my hand after the kiss and took me back to the coach. After helping me into it, he went around the back to sit down next to me. "Brian," He called.

The chauffeur looked back at us with a smile, tipped his hat to us. "What's up, Tom?"

"Can I see Scamp, please?" The small bunny poked its head out from the chauffeur's seat, and Tom reached out and picked it up. "Hey boyo… Hey…" He pet the bunny's head a few times. "Here, this is Marco. And Marco just went through a sad time, okay? So let him pet you." He set him down in my lap.

I smiled a little, saw Tom blush a little from having baby-babbled to a bunny, but I took him just as Tom did, because, admittedly, I didn't know how to hold a bunny. I just knew they could, y'know… _die_ from anxiety or shock. They reminded me of me in that way. I gave him a cautious pet, just in case he decided my hand was too much for him, and he turned over and died right there. After getting used to me being there, Scamp seemed to relax a little, and I pet him a little more. I had to admit, a lot of the tactics Tom probably used to relax his anger worked well to ease my anxiety. I took a deep breath and looked back up at him. "I feel better now. Thank you…"

He gave me a small smile. "Well, you can hold onto him till we get there." He gave Scamp a pat on the head. "What are you in the mood for? A steakhouse? Grill?"

How… ironic. This place was enough of a grill as it was! "I mean… I don't want to eat something heavy. I'm really in the mood for like… a salad or something."

"People _actually_ get in the mood for salads? Wow…" He chuckled. "No seriously, what are you gonna have for dinner?" I didn't look amused, and he laughed again. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding. So… salad and what else?"

"Chicken or fish, probably."

"So… something like Fire Red Lobster, right?"

"Sure…" I was sure he was making that up. Like seriously? _Fire_ Red Lobster? "Let's go with that…"

"Alright, Brian. You heard the man." And on my word, I guess, the coach began to move. There was a long pause of silence. I looked down at Scamp and decided for a change of pace. "So… how's it been? Y'know… managing your anger…?" I asked cautiously.

He frowned a little, looking down. "I've only been working at it for six months. You know how stupid teenagers are about rehab, right? The first two months don't mean anything cuz you go along being a brat about it. I didn't think I needed anger management when my mom and dad threw me into it, y'know? I've been having tantrums since I was a baby, but it's only been since I was about eight that they've been this… uncontrollable – y'know, to the point where I'd black out from just how pissed off I was, then I'd wake up to the consequences of it. But that was only reserved for that sort of… of seething rage, y'know? And I never got _that_ angry very often. Just the usual stuff – baby anger, y'know? Opening fissures, unleashing skeletons and hellspawn, burning the ground where I stepped – that sort of thing. My… next level of anger… it was worse. Because I never _knew_ what I was doing. It isn't as showy when I went berserk, in a way. I'm not angry just to be angry, and to let it out in, like, a volcano when I'm like that; I just… I take it out on other _people_ , rather than things, if that makes any sense."

I didn't really know how to feel about all he was saying. It was a little confusing, but I guess I hadn't known him long enough. I offered Scamp to him to pet, and he pet him from my lap hard enough to make the bunny fluff up. "I'm… It's kinda fuzzy, the way you're saying it."

He grimaced, shifted around in his seat, drummed his fingers, probably trying to come up with a way on just how to explain it to someone who hasn't experienced it. "Okay, like… let's say you were with me in a big group of people and you somehow pissed me off – no… shit… I don't wanna use _you_ as an example…"

"No no, it's okay. It's all hypothetical, isn't it?"

"I guess…" He sighed. "Okay. Big crowd. You somehow piss me off. Like… if it was normal anger, I'd probably explode some lava vents here and there – like specifically so they go around those poor people in the crowd. Maybe crack the foundation on a couple buildings. That'd be about it. And I'd burn everything I touch, but I really can't help that. That'd be normal anger, y'know? I'm aware of what I'm doing, y'know? So I'd let it all out in this massive fiery…" He waved his hands around. "…Thing. I wouldn't want anyone or anything getting hurt. Except that one time I melted the library, but I didn't think books were important then." He gave a deep breath. "But let's say it was berserk anger. Same situation: big group of people and you piss me off. I'd just… straight-up try to kill you."

I gulped. Maybe I should've let him use a different person as an example.

"And then like… Joe over there in the crowd tries to stop me? I'd kill Joe. Nancy's just walking along and gets in the way? I'd kill Nancy. If you'd disappear out of my sight, I'd try to fucking find you. I'd have time to calm down, then… but by then fissures all open up behind me, maybe a few volcanoes. If I saw you out there in the distance, I could tear a building down – people in it and all; I wouldn't care – and stop you with just… fucking building out there in front of you. And like… if some poor, brave soul tried to save you, I'd make that person my new target till they're dead. Like, I'd do everything in my… dangerously-unconscious mind to try and –" He looked over at me, and he paled as he saw me pale. "I'm scaring you, aren't I…?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it, then a sort of squeaking noise came out with my mouth agape. "Nn… Yes. Yes, you are. But it's cool! It's cool… You're learning to control your anger, so hopefully I'll never have to encounter you when you're… um, 'berserk', as you say." Did he have to say it like that? It gave me this chilling impression of him like that… like… lava coming out of his mouth and all that. I was probably wrong. I hoped I was wrong.

"I'm sorry…" He scratched the back of his head. "I guess I went a little overboard with the description…"

"So… um… How often… do you get angry?" I asked with a note of trepidation.

He shrugged nervously. "I mean… it's hard to say. I mean, before the therapy, basically anything that would agitate me would piss me off, y'know? Now, I'm trying to build up my tolerance, so if I get agitated, I don't get into that mode where I just wanna spew fire, y'know? I'm still working on it, so that level of tolerance still leaves something to be desired, but I know I'll get there." He smiled.

I was glad he was feeling confident about overcoming his anger issues. From the looks of it, it seemed like this was an issue with him since he was little.

The coach slowed to a stop, and outside I saw the neon signs for what was, regrettably and yet absolutely, Fire Red Lobster.

I couldn't help but laugh, seeing this, and I laughed a lot more uncontrollably than I should've. "Oh god…" I held my side, trying to absorb the… downright weirdness of the restaurant.

Tom looked at me with confusion. "What's so funny?"

"Cuz… oh god…" I laughed a fit again. "Cuz up on Earth, we have a place that looks exactly the same, except, y'know, the logo isn't a fiery lobster; it's a regular lobster."

"So… what's the restaurant even called?"

"It's literally just 'Red Lobster'."

He grinned. "Well, I think we beat you to the punch down here."

I was pretty sure that Earth beat them to it, but I decided not to argue there. "Well, whatever. Let's just go."

He nodded and took my hand, leading me into the… the _restaurant_. Let's just go with that. The leathery-skinned man at the check-in booth didn't looked up at us as we came in. "How many?" He asked flatly.

"Two." Tom said.

"Two, huh? Well, there's gonna be a wait for that… About thirty minutes." But as he looked up at us, his eyes widened, and he rubbed them. "O-Oh! Your Highness…!" He bowed in a very awkward manner. "I apologize for my rudeness! Here, I'll get a table cleared -"

Tom waved his hands in front of the man. "No, no no! Please, keep it on the down-low; I don't want any special treatment, and I _don't_ want any paparazzi right now, okay? Instead, I want you to give my treatment to this boy here. He's my date." I smiled and waved awkwardly. "See why I wanna keep it low-key right now?"

The leathery-faced worker looked at him, then at me, then bowed. "Very well, Your Highness. Please, come with me."

Tom grimaced as we followed the leathery-faced man, and we were seated in a booth. Afterwards, a demoness came in. She introduced herself as Amelia, and said she'd be our waitress for the evening. Just as Tom requested, she didn't refer to him or treat him in any special way. She handed us our menus and asked what we'd like to drink.

I skimmed over the menu. "Uh… Tom?"

"Yeah?" He smiled, his lower two eyes still looking at the menu, while his upper one looked up at me.

"I don't think I can…" My eyes hovered on that one eye of his way too long. "…Drink any of these. I mean… uh… like… carbonated lava soda isn't really… for me."

All three of his eyes finally looked up to me. "Oh!" He gave a quick laugh. "Jeez, how silly of me! Shoot… Well, um… Amelia, see, Marco isn't from around here… Do you have maybe an Earth menu he could go off of?"

She gave a perplexed look and thought for a moment, then conceded that she wasn't really sure.

"Do you have any human soda? Like… Pepsi or anything?"

After a little more confusion, she said she'd go check and went off.

"Marco, I'm so, so sorry about that. I mean… you see, we don't get many humans around here… and most of the stuff here isn't human-friendly. But I'll do anything and everything I can to make your experience the best it can be, okay?"

"Oh… um… okay." It's not like I could tell him 'oh, it's fine, Tom, I can eat lavasagna' or whatever it had on this menu, but I still felt terrible for inconveniencing him, and the staff here. "Thank you, for taking all this extra time to… make me feel comfortable."

He smiled and gave me a nod. "Anything to make today special."

Amelia returned, and told us the Fire Red Lobster staff could work to create items off the regular old human Red Lobster menu, and I was given that. I finally felt comfortable enough to order a Coke, but soon after, another server came in and set down a flaming basket of biscuits.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a long sigh. "Hey, um… sorry to impede, but… can we get a basket that's, y'know, _not_ on fire? He can't eat it like this; it won't do." I grimaced when he said this, seeing the stress on his features. I only hoped that it wouldn't build into something worse. "And I'll have a bottle of Umbral Tears. Thanks."

After the two servers left to give us some time to decide our orders, Tom took a deep breath. "You okay…?" I asked gingerly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine…" He murmured, chin on his fist. "Just – It's my fault, really; didn't think through that you wouldn't be able to eat our food. God… it was so stupid of me…"

"Are you… Are you angry…?"

"I mean… a little. It's stress, really. It's all stress. I'm angry at my own conduct, y'know? I'm sorry I am… I really shouldn't be."

My heart ached when he apologized to me. And I could see why he would. His whole life, he's felt a key emotion, to any… any creature, was some sort of detriment that he wasn't _allowed_ to feel. And that's just stupid to me. Nothing stops someone from feeling sad, or angry, or even happy. "Well… people can't help but feel the way they do. It's not a bad thing that you feel angry, as long as you learn to let it out without getting other people, or yourself, y'know… hurt. And, you're learning that, aren't you?"

"Yeah…" He murmured, not feeling very reassured. "I mean, we already talked about this; it's so… dumb of me, talking in circles."

"No it's not. Before you were talking about _how_ you got angry. Now you were talking about it like you're not allowed to feel angry at all, because you might get to that level of anger that scares you, and that's not the right way to think about it. Anger in itself, yeah, it's gonna happen whether you like it or not, but you're working to where it won't get to the point of being berserk, or… your 'normal' anger – that one you said was volcanoes and fissures and stuff."

"Yeah, but it all leads back to the fact that I have to learn to control it." He said in a voice hard with agitation, his teeth bared.

"I…" I sighed, not wanting to upset him further, and run all sorts of risks for problems to develop. "You… You're right. But please don't… say or think that you're not allowed to be angry."

"Okay…" He sighed again, looking up at me. "Did I scare you…?" His voice softened again. "I'm so sorry…"

"No, no you didn't." I reassured him gently. "I'm just… just upset that you feel you can't be angry."

"Well I can't. Not… now, anyway; not with how far I've gotten with my therapy. But I'm not angry yet! I'm just… a little peeved, is all." He tried to give me his best smile. "So what are you in the mood for? Salad, right? Which kind?"

I still frowned, knowing his… stress, as he put it, wasn't fully resolved. "Chicken salad should be fine."

"And dressing? Cuz I'm guessing it's not gonna be like… firecracker dressing, right?"

I didn't even want to chance that that was remotely edible. "Caesar salad…? Do you know what that is?"

"Yeah, _I_ know what it is. But I don't know if the staff does. God, we should've just gone to my place. We have human food there."

"Hey, hey… it's okay. I don't mind eating it bare."

"Well, I'll see what they can do about it first before throwing in the towel like this." Amelia returned with two glasses – one had my Coke in it, and the other was a bottle of dark red, bubbling liquid that she brought with a wine glass. It looked black in the dim light. She also had a basket of regular biscuits. After setting them down, she asked what we'd like as appetizers, and Tom ordered two of the salads 'from the Earth menu'. I guess he wanted to try one himself. "Thanks for accommodating us on all this, Amelia. But we'll need more time to decide on dinner."

She nodded and left again to attend to the restaurant's other guests.

"Well, there we go. Genuine human-style biscuits." He smiled. "Go on then; help yourself."

I smiled back nervously and took one. "I feel like I'm being a hassle…" I murmured after I bit into it. It tasted a little different than the ones I remember, but I couldn't point my finger at why.

"Don't worry about it, Marco. It's not like you're going to an ice cream shop asking for a burger. It's the same technique with this Fire Red Lobster as it is with human Red Lobster. It's just different stuff."

"You sure…?"

"I'm sure." He reached his hand out and put it on mine, petting it with his thumb. "Don't worry so much. Anything in mind for dinner?"

"Uh… I don't know… I was fine with salad…"

He laughed a little. "You don't have salads for dinner, Marco; don't be so modest."

"Then probably salmon and rice…" I shrugged. But I didn't know if… down here even _had_ fish. I decided to trust Tom's word that they'd get it done.

"That sounds good; might try it myself."

"Hey! You already ordered the same salad I'm having. Get your own dinner!" I teased.

"I'm sorry, I've just never had salmon before. Gotta bum off you, I'm afraid." He grinned. "Hey, um… Marco."

"Hm? What, you gonna copy my dessert, too?"

"No, no… That, I was hoping we'd share. Tomorrow's a weekend, right? Saturday. You don't have school then, do you?"

I quirked an eyebrow. "Um, no… why?"

"So… do you wanna stay the night here?" He asked, a sheepish smile on his face, eyes innocent and hopeful.

I was taken aback for a minute. What would I tell my mom and dad? Alfonzo and Ferguson? What would I tell _Star_? I'd be staying in _Hell_ for god's sake! "Really…?"

"Yeah. We're having dinner now, then you could crash at my place tonight, and I'd show you around my neighborhood tomorrow."

I paused for a moment, unsure of what to do. I didn't know how the Underworld was! Something could come down and snatch me away, I could burn up in the fire, get my soul ripped right out of my body! But then again… I'd gotten this far… Since I was little, I've always been this 'safe kid'. But, since my family took in Star, that's kinda gone out the window. I mean, I've had to fight off Ludo and his gang left and right, I've been thrown into dimensions where I didn't have half a clue where I was, I accepted a date with the devil! Well, a _demon_ , anyway. I wasn't really sure if there was a difference between them. I've gotten this far off of stupider risks. Gotten this far, despite being the ultra-safe kid. "I… I guess I could." I mean, it couldn't hurt, right? Plus, Tom was really nice… I liked spending time with him.

"You guess?" He asked cautiously. "I don't wanna force you to if you don't wanna go."

"Well, not like it'll kill me to stay, right?" I gave a small smile. The area he'd shown me was unlike anything I'd ever seen before, certainly not what I'd expected from Hell. I could really use a tour – and a break from all of Ludo's daily schemes and school disappointment.

His face lit up with a wide smile that showed off all his sharp teeth. He took my hand in both of his. "Really?!

"Yeah. You're interesting, Tom." I grinned, but I don't think he really got the reference.

"You're really okay with staying down here?" He asked eagerly.

"I'd just have to tell my mom or dad about it; otherwise, they'd start to worry."

"Oh, no problem! No problem at all. I just wanna show you one thing after dinner, then I'll make sure you get home safe and sound to talk to your parents."

I smiled and nodded. "Thank you so much."

"No, no. Thank _you_ , for staying." He gave my hand a squeeze.

Amelia returned with our plates of salad, and it didn't look like it had any rocks or fire or lava in it. The dressing looked a little weird, but I didn't expect it to look perfect; after all, this is probably the first time this staff's made anything like Earth's salad dressing. I took a moment to eat, and I have to admit, it tasted different from what I'm used to. But, again, that's what was expected.

Some silence came between us as we ate, or maybe he just wanted to give me some quiet time. And although it felt a little dull, I have to admit, I didn't have much to say, either. Besides asking those dumb, obvious questions, like 'what's your favorite color?' or 'what's it like, being the prince of a whole vessel, or even the entirety, of the Underworld?' Okay, I mean… I _wanted_ to ask that one… really badly, but now definitely wasn't the right time!

That topic nagged at me for a while as I finished up my salad and a few more biscuits, but with how uncomfortable I was with it, I kept juggling around the idea and kept wasting more time, and so more silence went between us. So much so, that Amelia returned with our dinners and set them down.

It was only then that Tom spoke up, and he asked Amelia for another wine-looking glass. When she returned with it, he finally spoke to me. "So… I know you're not for all this Hell stuff. Like 'oh, I can't eat it; it's lava'-type deal. But I want you to try this." He held up his bottle.

"The, uh… Umber Tears, right?"

"Umbral, but yeah. Even if you don't like Hell's food here, you have to try this."

He poured a glass for… me, I guess. "Uh… isn't that alcoholic…?"

"Alcoholic?" He laughed. "Oh god, no! I can't drink myself; I'm only sixteen. This is sweet – it's like, um…" He snapped to try and get his memory going. "Like cherry soda. It's cherry soda."

I took the glass cautiously when he handed it to me, giving him a skeptical look. "You sure I won't, like, drop dead or anything?"

"I'm sure! I'm sure… Plus, I could easily call a doctor if things get _really_ bad."

Any hope of feeling safe with that drink was quickly dashed. But, safe kid routine abandoned, I decided the only things I could do was either trust him or don't. So I decided to trust him, and took a sip. It was… surprisingly sweet. It tasted like a Shirley Temple.

"Is it good?"

"Yeah. It's good." I nodded.

"See? I knew you'd like it." He smiled, having moved on to eat his dinner.

"So, how's having salmon for the first time?"

"Here, lemme just see…" He took a bite of it, chewed it extra slowly, really thinking about it. He swallowed it down. "It's pretty good. Tastes like… what do you know? Fish."

I gave a small giggle. "Well, I'm glad it met your expectations." It took us a little bit to eat, and more silence passed. Whoever decided dinner was a good idea for a first date obviously didn't account for the long bouts of waiting, and subsequent bouts of silence. I mean, I get the whole gesture of paying for someone's meal as a sign of respect and affection or… whatever, but after a while there's just quiet.

I looked up at Tom and his third eye was looking up at me. It retreated back to his other two eyes' gaze and he flushed deep black, giving a chuckle. "Sorry! Sorry about that…" He murmured. "I can… sorry…"

"What are you apologizing for? I mean, have you been watching me this whole time?"

All three of his eyes looked up at me, and his cheeks and nose by then had all gone black. "Well, I – no… just… maybe a little… You haven't spoken in a little bit, so… I was worried the food was affecting you somehow."

I gave a sly grin. "Is that why you're blushing so badly?"

His face and hands were all black by then. "Because, well – I-I… um… You're cute, alright? I just… yeah… You're cute."

I laughed. "Okay, okay. Just relax."

He gave a long sigh, shook himself a bit and sat back, still blushing very, very hard. He was really cute when he wasn't all suave. "So… you done with your food, or…?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good." I nodded and set my fork down, after which Tom called over a nearby waitress for the bill. "So… how's this gonna work, you paying for it and all?"

He shrugged. "I mean, I asked them to give you the royal treatment, which is basically them getting you human food to begin with. How that'll affect prices is beyond me. But it's cool! I can pay whatever they throw at me."

"I see…" I waited around a little, whistled a tune.

After a little bit more silence, our bill was paid. "Well, that's that." He got up and stretched, reaching out to take my hand, and he helped me up.

I took a moment to brush myself off before we left. "I hope you gave that woman a nice tip…" I murmured as he helped me into the coach.

"Oh don't worry about that; of course I did. With all she had to work around, I made sure to pay a nice tip. Here." He sat down next to me in the coach. "There's something else I wanna show you before I take you to my place."


	7. Chapter 7: Blood Moon Manor

**Chapter 7: Blood Moon Manor**

* * *

"So… um…" I'd noticed Marco fumbling, fidgeting around for a while now, all the way since we'd gotten our appetizers. I hadn't commented on it then, feeling that it wasn't appropriate to ask. "How much of, uh… the Underworld do you rule over?"

I looked over at him and quirked an eyebrow. "Me?" I laughed a little. "Oh, I don't rule anything. My parents do all of that."

"Well… okay, how much do your _parents_ … rule over?"

"Um…" I mulled it over a little bit. I knew that the White Moon Kingdom was bordered over by New Styx, but as to how much land that meant we had, I didn't have a clue. "It's a good amount." I decided on. "They don't like… rule over _all_ of Hell or any crazy thing like that. Just one kingdom out of some."

"So… your family… must be pretty big, huh?"

"No; I'm an only child." And god, how I remember that. This whole big house with just my parents and I, for as long as I can remember.

He made a sad sort of face when I said that. "No, no, you don't understand… like, it's big as in famous, right?"

"Yeah. I mean, the Blood Moon Ball's one of the biggest things my family hosts yearly. It's mostly just for status, bringing in all the rich families and other kingdoms, but sometimes they hope to get me a date…" I murmured the last part with a sour tone. "But hey, I guess it worked this time, didn't it."

He frowned. "It doesn't sound like that's… gone over well in the past."

"It hasn't, really." I grimaced. "I mean… obviously me taking you out means I'm single. So… it hasn't worked out the best." His ears went back. "Honestly, Mom and Dad want me to marry into royalty, but… I hate being restricted to shit like that, y'know? I've dated people down in private school, but they either a) didn't meet Mom and Dad's criteria or b) they _did_ meet Mom and Dad's criteria, but I just didn't like them."

"So… does that mean that they're not gonna like me…? I mean…" He bit his lip, moving his hand to his arm. "For all intents and purposes, I'm a peasant. I mean… I… Can you… _Would_ you even be able to… to be with me?"

I put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Well, of course, Marco. I mean, sure they'd _prefer_ me to have a guy that was royalty, but… I don't care to please them, so they've really lowered their standards over time. I mean, hell, I didn't want to turn out to be this… stupid problem child for my parents – I really do wanna please them – but if they're gonna try and deny me the person I love because of that person's _status_? Then I'm glad to disappoint. Even if it means I get banished, or whatever… I don't wanna… lose the chance to be with the person I love just… just to have what? Power? Wealth? I mean, sure it's nice, but…" I sighed. "I mean, Dad's been getting cooler with it lately. He tries to kinda understand me and my stupid phases, tries to use some – I don't know – 'fresh teen lingo' or whatever he thinks it is. He's the one that got me Scamp, so… when I introduce you to my parents, I want you to meet him."

Marco had been smiling until then. "Wait, ' _when_ '? I'm gonna meet your mom and dad?" He asked, a worried look on his face.

"Well… yeah…" I murmured. "I mean, you're staying at my house, aren't you? Doesn't it lend itself that you'll meet them?"

He scratched the back of his head, looking nervous. "I-I guess… Are they nice people?"

"Yeah, they're nice. Mom can be a little strict, though. But it's cool; just looking out for my best interest."

"I see… Um… we didn't get dessert back there. I thought we were?"

I gave a small laugh. "No, not there. You wouldn't be able to eat any of the dessert there. You remember that little square you pointed out? And you were like 'oh, why are we moving away from it'?"

"Um… yeah!" He nodded.

"There's a few dessert places there; I could take you to one of them. I mean, I was planning on taking you to my house first, then we could get you settled down. Then we could go off and find a good dessert place. That okay with you? Or, um… we could have dessert now, if you want."

"Oh no, no… I'm full from dinner, so… yeah, going to your place and back, maybe it'll work up a little appetite." I nodded to Brian, who started up the car to take us back home. "So, um… what's this thing you wanted to show me?"

I smiled, taking his hand. "It's at my house. After you accepted my proposal, I…" I laughed nervously, blushing a little black. "I kinda told my mom and dad about you…"

"Oh, I see…" He nodded, then quickly looked back at me. "Wait _what_?!"

My blush grew. "Yeah… I kinda… already introduced you, in a way, to my parents. So, they already knew you weren't of status, but Mom didn't care at that point. As long as you make me happy, then they don't care." I shrugged. "So they whipped up a few things for you back home. Sorry I made you worry over nothing." I scratched the back of my head.

Marco seemed flattered, smiling with a hand over his mouth. "No, no, that's okay; that was really sweet of them to do that. Thank you…" He returned to the window, watching the landscape change as it went by. "Tom?" He asked, looking back at me.

"Yeah?"

"See, if… if I'm gonna visit your parents, I only think it's fitting that you meet mine."

That only made sense to me. "Oh of course, of course!" I nodded. "We can do that when you go to get your clothes for tonight."

"And all my hygiene stuff, but…" He looked off with a distant expression.

I gave him a moment, but it seemed that he trailed off indefinitely. "Marco?"

"Hm? Yeah. Hygiene stuff and my clothes and stuff. Yeah."

"What's on your mind?" I rubbed his hand.

"Nothing important…" He murmured. "Am I gonna get a room for myself?"

"Well, yeah; it's a big house. Plenty of extra rooms." Though I was still concerned about his expression, I didn't want to push it too much. "I'll be sure to have a room set up for you to occupy when we get there." I scooted closer and pet his shoulder.

"Okay…" He looked back out the window, still looking rather distant. I only hoped that he would get better when we got there. I wondered what it was I said…

"Do you need Scamp to hold on to?"

"No… I'm fine."

I frowned. "You sure…?"

"I'm sure."

I decided to take Scamp for myself; my worry was turning into stress. Did I seriously fuck up that bad? First I made him cry, now he was doing a thousand-yard stare. God, I was doing just… _such_ a great job. I stopped petting him when he'd fluffed up from the static.

We continued in this silence until Brian stopped the car out in front of our house. "Marco…" I gave his shoulder a gentle shake and he jumped a little. "We're here…"

He looked over at me with unfocused eyes. I thought he might have nodded off a few moments there. "Oh… okay." I helped him out of the car and he finally appeared to pay attention as he stretched. "Sorry…" He murmured. "I was just… thinking a lot."

I took him close to me and looped an arm around his shoulder. "Thinking of what?"

"Of the stay here… I wonder how my mom and dad will react…" He had a concerned look on his face. "And Star…"

I was fine with his line of reasoning, up until Star; easily then, I was concerned myself. "Well… if your mom and dad were cool you even going on this date with me, I'm hardly concerned about them. Star, on the other hand…" I trailed off, looking away. She's always been a possessive sort of girl, honestly, and knowing her, she's gotten all sorts of possessive over Marco. Plus, y'know, the glaring fact that I _dumped her_ , and a few months later, stole her best friend. So, yeah… she'd have _plenty_ to say about me. "I think she'll be fine." I lied.

"You sure?"

"Well, yeah. The least she could do is respect your decisions, and I think she's a girl that respects a lot of people."

He looked up at me, smiling a bit. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Well, anyway," I set Scamp back into the car and took out my handkerchief. "Close your eyes."

He looked at me hesitantly. "Why…?"

"So your surprise isn't spoiled; it's right behind that gate, so… I just need them closed for a few moments."

He knit his eyebrows at me, but obeyed and closed his eyes. I tied the kerchief over them so he didn't peek. The gate to the house opened up, and as Brian went ahead, I took Marco's hand and led him in myself. After Brian was out of sight, I untied it from his face.

"Can I open them now?" He asked gently.

"Wait, wait. Gotta… position you just right." After I did, I whispered close to his ear. "Open your eyes."

He did so slowly, blinking a few times. He opened his eyes to the Blood Moon Manor's expansive garden, trimmed and arranged nicely just for his visit, with all the azaleas and fire roses. Of course, most of it was the same as I'd remembered, but I'd made sure blood and fire roses were out front just for him. He looked around in awe, stepped a few steps forward, looking around.

"Do you like it?" I asked gingerly, making sure to pluck a fire rose from the side.

"It's…" He looked around a little more, marveling at the display. "It's so beautiful… Who arranged all of this?"

I smiled at his wonder. He walked down the path, and I followed, looking over the moonflowers and glowing tulips. "It's… my first mom's. She always loved gardening, saw through the production of this whole place, even the backyard. After she died, my dad worked to help maintain it. He redid the whole front here when I told him you were coming."

He frowned over at me. "I'm so sorry… about your first mom."

I shook my head. "No no, don't worry about it; I didn't know her that well to begin with. But… y'know, she's the one I inherited my… really destructive anger issues from. The short fuse, and everything that follows." I sat down one of the marble benches by the wine-grape vines.

He sat down beside me. "So… what happened to her?"

I grimaced. "She… Well, that's a funny story. She was executed."

His expression dropped. "Executed…? Why…?"

"Well, like I said, this anger of mine – then, of ours – really… can wreak havoc. Even though Mom was royalty, her anger caused her to go berserk like me, and, well… as far as I know, she murdered a lot of demons down here. Eventually, the citizens lived in fear of her, and she lived in fear of herself. Riots went down in the streets, and the only way it would be calmed down would be her public execution; they demanded it, as payment for the citizens that died by her hand." I sighed. "Now, that was fifteen years ago; I wasn't old enough to remember what she'd done. But… when I was about four, I started displaying those same sort of traits my mother did. By then, Dad had gotten remarried and had renewed a sort of dignity and status. And for a while, Dad and my new mom lived in fear that I would be executed too." I gave a nervous laugh. "I still… kinda live with that worry, that… I'll go too far and it'll get me killed. So, with that kind of… fear they had, they sent me off to St. Olaf's. It's kinda like the boys-version of St. Olga's, if you know what that is." He gave a tense nod. "And I went there a few years; all it did was make things worse. I mean, the guys there are terrible, coming with all sorts of problems, pissing me off. It became a kind of game to see how far someone could annoy me without making me burst into flames." I looked over to see his reaction, and all I could make out was pity. Pity and sadness. "After a while, I was found out by the public, but all they did was give me warnings, thankfully. That was a few months ago, and that's when Mom and Dad hired Brian and adopted Scamp for me."

He looked down, a gloomy look on his face. "So… what's gonna happen to you?"

"Well, I'm kinda on this sort of watch list right now. Brian watches over me; I've got an ankle bracelet to track my movements." I said with a little bit of shame. I felt like a criminal for something I couldn't control. "I'm fine, as long as I don't do anything crazy. But I'm on thin ice, y'know? The people hold me to the same standard they held my mom, even though I'm younger. They have no sympathy for me. I mean, they respect me, sure, 'cause I still _am_ a prince, but sometimes I feel like… like they're just watching my every move, waiting for me to fail." I shuddered a sigh. "I mean, I've seen the pictures of my mom's execution – seen all the reports. I don't…" I grit my teeth, biting back a sob. "I don't wanna get hanged, y'know? I don't… I don't wanna die." My breathing hitched and I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back my tears.

I felt his arms wrap around me, his soft hair against my neck and chin. He rubbed my side and my arm, shushing me gently. "You're not gonna die, Tom." He reassured. "You're a great guy, and you've been so helpful to me, and kind to me. I know you have your anger issues and they're not all worked out – don't know if they ever will be nonexistent, because, like… those things never go away. I know you're worried, and it's all founded. But at least you're trying to help yourself, y'know? Before things get bad. At least you can get better this way."

I gave a strained sigh, letting some tears roll out. Then I felt a plush sensation on my cheek. A kiss. He kissed me. I looked over to him with a deep flush I knew was developing and I sniffled. "Thank you, Marco…" I leaned into his embrace and let a few tears fall when I buried my head in his shoulder.

"Hey…" He patted my back, then pulled my head up and wiped the tears from my eyes. "Don't cry… I know you're scared, but… please don't cry. You were gonna show me around, right?"

I nodded, voice damped by my crying. "Yeah. Let's… Let's get that done." I finished wiping off my face from where Marco began, got up and stretched, took his hand. "Thank you again."

"Don't worry about it, Tom." He gave my hand a squeeze. "I mean, after all, you helped me when I cried, too."

"Yeah… but that's just the right thing to do, y'know? I don't like seeing you cry."

"And I don't like seeing you cry, either."

I began to take him towards the manor, where Brian and the car were waiting. "Honestly, you already cried, and I already cried. We shared our darkest fears within a few hours. This shit's getting too intense for me, y'know? Best we cool it down a little…"

"I hope it'll relax a little too…" He paused a moment. "I'm… I'm sorry I confessed all that to you… It was a… a moment of weakness."

I frowned. "Sure, it may have been a moment of weakness, but I'm not upset you told me." I swung an arm around his shoulder and gave it a rub. "Those are real fears you can't control."

"But they're so stupid. I mean… you could be executed, and I'm complaining about being a loser…"

I shrugged. "Well, in your sphere, that's a really big issue. I can't imagine what it's like to not have friends; I've always had that large circle you envied, so I can't imagine the pain it could cause you. Just because mine's about… y'know, _death_ doesn't mean your issues are any less valid."

"I guess…" He murmured, not seeming very convinced.

"Well… I'm glad I heard it. I'm glad you were able to let it all out to someone. Y'know, that it didn't manifest in… some other way." I looked down.

He looked no more reassured. "I… I guess."

I looked down, at a loss for options and words, but I soon remembered, "Here, I've got something that'll make you feel better."

Marco looked over at me, confused. "Well… what is it?"

I took out the fire rose, and offered it to him. He flushed and nodded. "O-Oh… I see…" I tucked it behind his ear after letting the fire go out, and I kissed his cheek.

He hid a hand over his face, smiling though he was embarrassed. "Thank you, Tom… it's beautiful."

"Just don't frown so much, okay? Your problems are much more valid than you give yourself any credit for. Please don't frown like this."

He looked down, then looked back up with a small smile. "Okay. For you, I'll hold off on it." Content, I took his hand and led him to the door, opening it into the manor for him, and he breathed out another "Whoa…" like he did when he first got down here.

I smiled, happy to have moved on from the heavy stuff. "You like it?"

"It's so… big." He looked around every inch of the place, moving closer to the decorations. "And… ornate, too. I'm guessing I can't touch them?"

"I'd prefer you not… Not just because it's expensive, but I honestly don't know if half of this stuff could actually hurt you. I just know that _some_ do. _Which_ ones, I'm not sure."

He moved a lingering hand away from one of the busts. "Oh… I see…"

"My parents' place is this way; come on." I took his hand and he came along with me to the massive doors that would lead to Mom and Dad's throne room. "You ready?"

He gave a sharp sigh. "Not really! But… what am I gonna do, right?" He took a deep breath, eyes full of fear and expectation.

"Hey, hey hey…" I stepped between him and the door, took his hands in mine, looked him straight in the eye. "Look at me. It's gonna be just like the dance last night, okay? Focus on me. You'll be alright, I promise."

"But… But this isn't like the ball. I-I mean… I didn't have to focus on all those people before. I can't just ignore your mom and dad!"

"I know that. You don't ignore them, but I'm saying, when you're feeling scared, you can focus on –"

Before I could finish, the throne room's doors powerfully swung open. "Making your proposals already, eh, Tom?"

"D-Dad… No! _No_ , that is _not_ what I'm doing! Stop right there with your accusations!"

Dad gave a quick chuckle, threw his arm around me, used the other one to ruffle my hair. "God, kid! I was only joking. So," He let go of me abruptly, and I staggered back a few steps, before he focused his attention on Marco. "Who's this little fry?"

Marco looked to me desperately, and I quickly returned to his side. "This is Marco. Marco Diaz. He's… He's from Earth."

"Earth. So that makes you… a human, right? Humans are still the dominant species there, right?" He crossed his arms.

Marco gave a squeak. "Um… y-yeah…" He nodded quickly.

"I see, I see. So, what makes you so special that you won over the heart of my boy over here?" And yet again, he had his thick red arm around me. "I expected a little more meat for him to nibble on." He gave another quick chuckle, and he roughly patted my back. As for what made that so funny is anyone's guess.

"Dad! Stop! Seriously…!" I threw his arm off me. "Marco… This is my dad, Anders."

Marco reached a hand out as a greeting. "Pleased to meet you, Your Highness."

Dad took the hand and pulled Marco in to give him a rough hug, patting his back with a chuckle. "Your Highness was my father's title, kid. I'd just rather be 'King'."

"Uh… King, then… I guess."

"Well, Marco. Let me get a good look at you." His tail prodded Marco's back, surprising him to stand upright. Dad gave a few hmm's here and there, then laughed. "Don't be so nervous, Marco. You look like a sweet young thing alongside Tommy here."

Footsteps soon approached from behind, giving an austere presence. "So, Thomas. Is this the boy you decided to bring home this time?"

I grimaced. "He's not just some boy, Mom; he's a human."

"Excuse me," Mom corrected. "Some human boy."

"Um… hello…" Marco greeted nervously, face red with embarrassment, retreating to my side. "Tom…"

"Marco?"

"Your mother is… a guy."

I smiled and laughed a little. "Yeah?"

"Oh. Well, y'know. Just… y'know, not a big deal or anything… Just kinda… expected when you said mother that… they'd… be… y'know, a girl." He looked down. "But it's cool, y'know? It's totally fine! I get it. That's cool. That's… It just… wasn't expected."

I pat his back. "Don't worry about it, Marco. It's not to be expected by human standards. But around here, it's pretty normal."

"So your first mom…?"

"Was a girl. She and my dad had me, then I ended up being the bastard child to my new mom."

"Bastard is hardly the word to describe you, Thomas." Mom interjected.

"Well it's true! I mean…" I sighed. "Marco, this is my mom, Obelus."

"Pleased to meet you." He bowed.

Marco returned with a "Pleased to meet you too."

"So, what makes you think you're worthy of my son?" Mom crossed his arms.

Marco looked over at me, then gave a shaky breath. "I… I-I… uh…"

"Mom! Quit it…! He has a nervous disposition as it is, and I introduced him to you guys as a favor. The least you could do is be a little nice to him." I stepped between them.

He still focused his attention on Marco. "Marco, was it? Marco Diaz? You're not the first boy my son's fallen in love with. So I'll say to you what I've warned to them: break his heart, and I'll personally see you down to Hell myself."

" _Mom_!" I growled, fists balled up. I could feel my heart racing, my mind going. I needed to collect myself. I took a deep breath, walked around a little bit around Marco, then took another deep breath, calming me down a little. "Just…" I grit my teeth. "Stop with the threats, okay? I hate them. I hate them _so_ much."

Dad took Mom to the side. "Quit being so hard on the kids, okay? Please."

"Fine…" Mom turned back to me. "I apologize, Tom and Marco."

"Thanks…" I gave a strained sigh, taking Marco's hand – rougher than I'd wanted – to lead him out. After I closed the door, I gave a loud groan and slumped against it. "So! That's my mom and dad for you! Dad _really_ picked a dead-wringer marrying _him_ , huh?" I massaged my temples. "And honestly, I know more about him than my actual mom, and yet he doesn't know a damn thing about my anger issues. It's almost like he tries to piss me off, like everyone else."

Marco squatted down by me, looking at a loss for words. "I'm sorry about him, Tom… that sounds so difficult to live with."

Another long sigh. "It's fine. It's fine it's fine." I gave a clap and got up. "So dessert, right?"

"Maybe you should… give yourself a little bit more time to cool down…" He put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a reassuring rub. I relaxed there by the door for a little bit, following his advice, giving myself a few moments to breathe.

It really was difficult living with my new mom. It was almost like we never grew up together, never knew each-other. Dad did his best to try and bring us together, but no matter what he tried, we always seemed to be at odds. Mom always tried restricting my free spirit, seemed more than any council to reprimand me for my anger. I'm not even sure anymore he was doing it for my best interest, because no matter how hard I tried, I was never calm enough for him. My anger never could subside forever, like Marco said, but the way he treated me sometimes… sometimes I felt I had to destroy that part of me just to make him happy.

Marco snapped me back to reality with his shaky interjection. "Plus, um… I kinda wanted to grab my stuff from my place, y'know? All the hygiene and my clothes."

I nodded, glad to have gotten off that rail of thought. "Oh yeah, yeah! That's totally fine." I got up immediately. "To your place, then?"


	8. Chapter 8: Conflicted Feelings

**Chapter 8: Conflicted Feelings**

* * *

Of course, I dreaded meeting back with Star. She wouldn't be the kind to just up and kill me, no, especially not with Marco around. But I knew, for sure, it'd be hell.

The car moved through the portal into Marco's room, flaming chariot, flaming skeletal horse and all burning up the wood floor, leaving pitch-black scorch marks in its wake. I'd forgotten that he wanted it parked in the driveway, but honestly, I was under too much stress over what could happen if _she_ was there.

I swung around the back of the car after getting out to open the door for him, and I took his hand with a nod of the head as he stepped out.

"Back so soon, guys?" And just as I feared, Star had entered through the door and was standing before the coach, arms crossed behind her back, bobbing every now and then. And although she smiled brightly, it seemed so dark when her eyes moved to me.

"Actually, um, Star…" Marco went in front of me, a bright smile of his own on his face. "I'm staying at Tom's place tonight! So I came here to get some clothes and stuff. So…" He looked between her and I. "Yeah. I'd better do that."

As he was about to leave, Star smiled a genuine smile, one that looked bright, even when she was looking at me. "So Marco~ you had fun?"

"Actually, yeah! I mean, the Underworld's a lot different than I imagined it'd be! – Hell? The Underworld? Tartarus?" He looked back at me. "Is there a right way to say it?"

"Well, no. It just depends on the area. On Earth, I mean. We usually just call it Hell." I shrugged, still wary of Star, though she seemed like she was honestly interested in Marco's night.

"But it was nice, yeah. It's not _all_ inhospitable like I thought, y'know? Some of it's really nice! So he showed me around a park a little bit, we had dinner… It was nice."

I was quietly grateful that he didn't mention him meeting my parents. But, that was quickly dashed. "So, where are you gonna stay, then?"

"Um… well, I'm gonna stay at Tom's place. He was gonna go show me around the neighborhood tomorrow. So…"

She looked over at me with defensive eyes. "Tom's place? You mean the castle?"

"Um…" Marco didn't seem to see anything wrong with her expression. It was probably guised under cheeriness and rainbows looking at him, as she's so _good_ at doing. "It was more of a mansion, but yeah. I guess."

"Did you… tell your mom and dad?"

"No, I didn't." He admitted swiftly. "I was gonna do that before I left. Staying over someplace else isn't that big of a deal to them."

She nodded, and her expression now cooled. For the time being, it looked like she was just genuinely concerned for Marco, rather than spiteful to me. "Did you get to meet Tom's parents?"

"Yeah, yeah I did. Tom wanted me to meet them because I'd be staying over, so… But they're really nice people! They seem pretty cool. His mom's a little… um… strict, but I'm okay with that." He shrugged.

I grimaced, ashamed at his dedication to lie for me, just in order to make my mother seem a little nicer to Star.

"So, um… I gotta go get my stuff ready." He shied away from the two of us, waved goodbye, and quickly scuttled off to his room.

I hardly wanted to look over at Star as we were left alone in the room, and when I did, her gaze was everything I never wanted it to be. She looked suspicious, seething, and cold, her bouncy expression now a tap of the foot and a drum of the fingers, eyes once opened up brightly now like daggers. "Well what do you know, Tom? You pulled out all the tricks in just a few hours."

I rolled my eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"You let me have two months before I met your parents. But you give Marco only what? Three, four hours? How quickly do you wanna just… wrap him around your little finger?!"

I grit my teeth, trying not to let her get to me. "Star, that is _not_ what I'm trying to do! At all. I wanted him to stay over because I saw he liked the way the place was, so I wanted to show him more of it. And honestly, if he was gonna stay at my place, of course he'd meet my mom and dad! What did you think was gonna happen?"

"Well forgive me for trying to look out for Marco's wellbeing! I know how little you and your mom get along. It could only be a matter of time till he puts you over the edge. Or just… anything in general."

"Nothing _will_ , Star! Nothing's gonna put me 'over the edge'! That's why I've been trying so, so hard to make everything right after I left you!" I looked down. "I never want to hurt him – him or anyone – the way I hurt you. I'm…" I sighed. "I'm sorry for what I did to you, okay? I… Nothing can ever change what happened, or how much of it was my fault. All I could've done is… is isolate myself for six months thereafter in an institution, get a therapy human and therapy bunny, and try to work myself out for the best, and… and I wanna do that, not just to make it up to you, or to be a good example and – maybe, later on – a good boyfriend to Marco, but I wanna do this for me, Star. You see that look you're giving me? It's motivating me to do my best and be better, so go on. Keep glaring." But I was lying. It wasn't motivating me at all. I hoped that putting up a false confidence would turn my doubts into _real_ confidence, but so far, it wasn't working well at all.

She crossed her arms. "You haven't made enough progress for me to feel safe giving Marco over to you. You've only been doing anger management for six months! Six months, Tom! It took you only two of those to fall in love with me, then turn around and ruin me all the same! How can I trust you've gotten any better in such a puny amount of time?!"

My ears went back, and I growled. "You just can't trust anything when it comes to me. That's just how you are." I balled up my fist, literally starting to see red.

"See, exactly! And what happens when Marco says something that upsets you, and you lose your cool?! He isn't used to your temper; he could say anything he wants and you'll make it into something worse. I really still don't trust that Marco's gonna be okay in your hands, and you're really not doing anything to convince me."

I rubbed my temples. "That's because nothing ever _will_ , Star! You're… Jeez, you're impossible!"

"It's not that, Tom. Just look at you! You're proving my point yourself."

"Star –"

"And then the moment's gonna come where something's just ticking you off, and that'll be the _one_ moment Marco says something, and then –"

My breath rose to a hitch, every vein in my body flowing through it now with boiling, black blood just _screaming_ at her to " _STOP IT_!" My hair caught aflame, teeth grit, my vision beginning to haze at the edges. I had to keep myself under control. I had to. Every fiber of my being just wanted to punch her, tear her apart, get _even_. I was losing it, losing it badly.

I took a deep breath, walked around in circles, hands on my then-fiery head, then through my hair as it returned to normal, feeling myself coming back together, however much seething and upset. I took another deep breath, trying to shake the anger off, the bloodlust, the want of devastation. I looked up at her slowly. "You happy now? Is-Is that what your plan was all along? Just… trying to get me out of control, lose my mind? Just for what? Just to prove the point that yes, when I'm angry, I lose control? Then, yes, there's… there's your answer." By then, she'd been looking at me apprehensively, wand slightly raised. So yes, that must've been what she'd wanted out of me.

She wanted my six months of progress gone to waste. And honestly, I felt ashamed. In that moment, all I'd wanted was the worst for her. I wanted to horrify her, scar her – physically and even mentally, take your pick – even maim her, _kill_ her maybe. I wanted all those things done to her, and I wanted to do it _myself_ , my own hands, would-be claws – had things gone worse – digging into her. I wanted blood on my hands – _her_ blood on my hands. What kind of… What kind of _monster_ wants that?

After a few moments' silence, Marco remerged from his bedroom, carrying a clothes bag filled with his stuff. "Um…" He rubbed his shoulder, breaking up the tension between Star and I. At least, for now. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah." I nodded, did my best smile, tried to sweep the thoughts of once-murder under the rug, though it just came back with a vengeance and pricked at the edges of my mind. "We're fine. You grabbed your toothbrush and everything?"

Looking at his face, his bright, beautiful autumn eyes, his full complexion… What if, in my most unstable moments, I wanted that of _him_ …? What if I looked at him with eyes I couldn't control, and with thoughts I couldn't control, wished death on him? Wished… brutal murder by my own hands? And I'd carry it out, too, if I was at that uncontrollable point. I know I would. "Oh! No, I didn't do that. Crap!" He went off to the bathroom, leaving the three of us alone again. Star, myself, and these fucking thoughts of mine.

"Y'know, with the amount of apprehension you have towards me, I'm just… just surprised you even went to the Blood Moon Ball with me."

"That's because it was about me then. I went to the ball with you, and if you would've done something stupid, I have this to deal with you." She twirled her wand in her hand triumphantly. "Marco, on the other hand… He's pretty helpless. Besides the whole karate thing, but it wouldn't be a match for your broiling skin."

I looked down, ashamed. The temperature my skin can reach… it's like touching your skin to an eternally-hot iron. Let's go with that. And when I go berserk, I grab, I kick, I slash. All of that is my skin contacting someone else's. Even people I've just pushed aside in the past have been left with irreversible burns and discolored scars that were the end result. Just one second of Marco touching my hand like that could burn his own hand. After all, he's just a human, and their skin is so, so weak and fragile. I couldn't imagine how horrible it would be if the fire of my skin and hair wreaked havoc on him. And yet, in all this line of thought, the worst thing of all was that I _could_. I could imagine me ravaging his body with burns, lacerations, _worse_ …

Marco soon returned, beaming. "Okay, now I should be ready." His giddy voice broke me instantly from my thoughts. He slipped his bag onto his shoulder and held my hand. "You good to go?"

I sighed, tried to shake off Star's words – and, more importantly, my _thoughts_ – off my shoulders, then did my best to make my smile believable. "Yeah. I'm good to go."

I took his hand to lead him to the car, but he tugged on it. " _But_ … not yet; you still haven't met my mom and dad!" He smiled brightly. "I really wanted them to meet you."

Now, normally I'd be all enthusiastic about it, but by then – with that argument Star and I had back there – I wasn't feeling too hot. But they were _his_ parents, probably nice people too, and I couldn't just… _not_ meet them. They'd be the ones to give Marco permission to stay at my house in the first place.

He set his bag down on the counter before the stairs, then took my hand and led me downstairs. "I already told my dad about you earlier today. It's actually… kinda how I came out to him…" He murmured. "But he was totally cool with it all too! And, when we went to leave, I saw him with my mom waving goodbye, so I'm guessing he told her, or she figured it out or something? But either way, she's probably cool with it all."

My smile wavered. So _I_ was the reason he was able to tell his parents he was queer? _I_ was the first boy he dated? And with all I was capable of doing to him… "O-Oh… I'm glad I was able to help…"

"I am too! So, I already told my dad you're a demon whose name is Tom. I didn't say exactly where I met you, and what the circumstances were. I figured it was best to just let that sleeping dog lie, y'know?"

"Yeah… I guess so." I nudged his arm, a sly grin on my face. "Won't tell them that I dipped you and kissed you on the lips like in the movies, right?" And immediately after saying that, I deflated. It was a mistake asking him out and thinking my anger wouldn't have to be something to factor into all of this.

He flushed as we stepped into the downstairs, the thick smell of salsa in the air. "No, we don't." His mother and father had their arms wrapped around each-other, sitting on the couch by the TV, eating salsa and chips, his mother's head on his father's shoulder. It was kinda sweet, seeing that his parents still felt so strongly about each-other. "Um… Mom? Dad?" Marco asked in a nervous tone, squeezing my hand for support.

His father paused the TV, then looked over at him with a smile. "Hijo! You came to watch Grey's Anatomy with us?"

"Uh, no… I'm actually on my way out, but… before I go, I wanted to introduce you guys to my boyfriend, Tom."

 _Boyfriend_ …?! Did he not know how these things worked?! I really did get the impression this was the first time he's ever dated… _anyone_ at all, only using terminology from rosy-eyed and unrealistic romance movies. Just because we were dating didn't make us boyfriends…! Not yet, anyway. After being thrown off by his… _description_ of me for a moment, I recollected myself and gave a small bow. "Pleased to meet you both."

His father got up and shook my hand heartily, patted me on the back with a smile and a laugh. "You're Tom, then. I saw you only a little bit when you took Marco in your fancy chariot. I hope you've been being nice to him." He said sternly, then laughed again. "I'm joking! I'm joking! I know you have been! Anyway, this is Marco's mother, my wife. She didn't see much of you, but she was certainly happy to hear about you!"

I nodded and shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you."

She returned with a "Pleased to meet you too!"

"So… um, yeah. I just wanted you to meet Tom before we left, so… I hope you guys liked him, y'know?"

"He seems like a nice guy." His dad said. "Very polite and formal."

"And helpful!" Marco added in, but didn't elaborate on what he meant. I'm guessing it's when I helped him when he was crying. "So, we're gonna go back upstairs so I can get my things. I'm staying over at his house for tonight; is that okay?"

His dad looked to his mom, and she nodded. He nodded back to us as well. "Just make sure your food isn't burnt!" He nudged my arm. I still don't know what that meant.

Marco laughed and nodded. "I will, Dad." He went over to them and hugged them both. "I love you guys." And returned to my side, taking my hand again. "Let's go, Tom."

Before we returned upstairs, my mind was already racing. _Boyfriend_ , he'd said. Boyfriend, really? I took him aside into the kitchen. "Marco, y'know… doesn't this feel like it's been just a _tad_ rushed? I've only known you the span of one-two-three – four hours – and already I've met your parents, and you're staying over at my place? It seems just a little… little ridiculous, don't you think?"

Marco rolled his eyes. "Look, obviously I'm not the best judge about pacing in a relationship; I've never been in one myself, y'know?" He gave a deep sigh, eyes scanning the ground for some sort of thought to latch onto. "I just thought it's because things were going nicely between us. Sure, we got off on a bad foot and all that, but…" He didn't seem to know where to go with all this. "Maybe you're right. But, like… I already told my mom and dad I was gonna stay at your place – and… you seemed pretty happy about letting me stay over yourself. I just wanted to stay over for a change of pace, y'know? Just to make it a little different from the life I live up here. So we went down to your place for dinner, and you got all excited about showing me your garden that your dad made, and it all just kinda… tumbled into this."

"We don't… _have_ to do this if you don't want to." I offered, and honestly, with Star's words having filled me to the brim, I was hoping very dearly that he would acquiesce.

"No, no… it's okay. I kinda… _like_ this, y'know? It's like an adventure; I like your place; I like Hell, and that's not weird to say at all. I like spending time with you, and… away from all this for a change."

I tried my best smile and nodded, though it really wasn't the answer I wanted to hear. We returned upstairs to the car with Brian, and, regrettably, Star. I quickly led him into the car, not daring to look back to Star to see her expression. Lord knows I wouldn't need it, with how much doubt was already piling up in me because of her.

Brian started up the car, and Marco waved goodbye to her as the dull thuds of the Diaz family wood floor soon became the hard clacks of the cobblestones of Hell. Marco had been going off on a topic for some time; it was something about the archeological structuring of the buildings, and that it fascinated him. I had to admit, I hardly listened to him; I was lost in my own thought, in the possibility that Star… was right. So quickly had I just… sprung to snapping at her when she bothered me. What if the same thing happened to Marco? What if he just… rambled on a little too long and it pissed me off enough that I'd lose control? I didn't even know my limits. I didn't know when I'd just be irritated, when I'd be angry, or when it'd all just go down in flames and I'd lose any semblance of myself. I didn't know when I'd transition from my annoying, but slightly-less dangerous regular anger to that anger that could get people killed. I honestly could be the reason Marco would be seriously hurt… or worse.

Having been caught up in these thoughts for some time, Marco touched my shoulder. I guess he was done talking about rocks by then. I looked up at him, having been snapped back to a general reality, rather than a rhetoric. "Tom… you okay? I think you zoned out on me for a little bit."

"I did _not_. …You were talking very… very passionately about rocks, right?"

He gave a disappointed look. "Not _just_ rocks. About the building structures and everything – you really _weren't_ paying attention, were you?"

I sighed, still feeling extremely out of it. What if Star really… _was_ right? I couldn't get that thought out of my head, let the insecurity go. As I looked up at his face, all I could see was this bright, smiling, beautiful guy next to me, and next to him was a demon that could tear that all down. I couldn't bring myself to give him that possibility. "I… Not really, no." I gave a weak smile, an even weaker laugh.

His eyebrows furrowed, and he rubbed my shoulder to try and reassure me. "You didn't answer me if you were okay or not… That was… kinda the important part."

I looked over at his bright eyes, concerned and hopeful, and I couldn't bear to disappoint him. But… I couldn't ever run the risk of hurting him, especially when I'm not even that far into my anger management; I haven't accomplished enough for anyone to be _safe_ being so close to me. I sighed. "No… not really. Brian, can you stop the car? I need to… kinda… talk to Marco in private."

The car stopped, and Brian, although confused, stepped out of the coach. "Do you want me to drop off Scamp here with you?"

I shook my head, waved my hand, not bothering to say a word as Brian walked away. I knew he wouldn't be far; he's legally supposed to be within a close distance of me to keep watch over me. And by then, Marco's expression of concern had a few noticeable hints of fear. "Tom…?"

"Marco…" I started, not able to bring myself to look up at him. "I…" I sighed. "I can't… let this go on."

Even without looking up, I could see his breath hitch, his heart stop. "W…What…?" He asked in a voice almost lost. "I don't understand…"

I felt his hand on my shoulder and I quickly shrugged it away, squeezing my eyes shut. "Look, Marco… I've told you by now what kind of a risk I run just… just by being alive and kicking. I have an anger in me with the potential to kill. And-And don't say that can happen to anyone when they're angry – it's not the same and you know it. I'm more powerful, and I literally have no idea what I'm doing or what I'm capable of. And I… I can't risk that hurting you. I can't."

"When did this… come up?" I heard him whimpering from behind me. "I-I'd told you that it's okay, Tom; I didn't mind…"

"I know… I know. I'm… grateful that you have faith in me, but… I've been thinking about it and, no matter how much faith you have in me or I have in myself, there's… just a point where I don't _know_. Everything might be good – hell, _years_ from now everything could be good – and then someone like – god forbid – mugs me or something, and I'll just…" I sighed. "Even if… we end up so well together… long-shot, that we end up together for a _long_ time – and I don't wanna dwell on that since, well, Star was right; we've only been together a few hours now – even if things go perfectly and you get so close to me, some other… _thing_ could just come in and bring out the worst in me. And I could take it out on you, and…" Another sigh.

A beat of silence fell between us, one that stretched the minutes into hours, coiled it up into just a few seconds. Marco's voice returned to him in a weak tone. "This is all… This is all maybes. They're all ifs… What if this never happens?"

His shattered voice shattered a part of me inside. I pinched the bridge of my nose, shook my head. He just didn't get it. "Counterpoint: it could happen tomorrow. It could happen in the next ten minutes if something in this conversation goes sour. I don't know! And that's the fucking thing! _I don't know_. It could be now, tomorrow, sometime next week, next month, next year; I don't know! It could happen never, who knows! But it's that _not knowing_ that… that's making me do this." I looked down. "Marco, even if I'm wrong, even if nothing bad would ever come to you… I can't… I can't _risk_ it. I can't risk your life. If things happen to go good between us now – or would have, had this conversation just… never happened – you would be around me a lot. It's just… just a given. We'd be together, we'd wanna do things, go to the mall, the fair, the carnival – all that jazz. And that sort of thing, just… just moving around in public with _me_ … it leads to all sorts of risks. Somebody could try to hurt you. Someone could try to hurt _me_. And then I'd go into this frenzy, and you know who'd be in the blast zone?" I swallowed down the lump in my throat as I looked up at him. Already, lines on his cheeks were shimmering from his tears and the lamplight outside to reflect on it. His lips quavered, and he sniffled, his body tense, teeth clenched. My words alone were ripping him to pieces. I let out a deep breath, and out with it came all the strength in my body, looking at him now with pathetic eyes. "It'd be you, Marco. And I-I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ever hurt you."

He gave a small whimper, another tear falling down his eye, but he didn't sob. Instead, he just… looked at me, searched my face for any semblance of me wavering. "Tom…" Was all he could manage.

"Look. It's been fun. It… It really has. You're a really funny, really sweet, and cute guy, but…" I gave another sigh, another sigh that scattered every fiber of my strength out to the wind. "Things were going good, and… that's a concerning thing, because… if it went too far, things could've gotten… _instantly_ more dangerous for you." I looked down again, shifted my body slightly, just to ease the pain of looking at him, who himself looked filled to bursting with anguish. "…I'm taking you home."

"Tom…!"

"I'm sorry I made you pack your clothes for nothing, but I'm _taking you home_." I said sternly.

He looked down, then around frantically, looking to somewhere for some sort of help, finding absolutely nothing. "T-Tom… God… um…" One of his hands gripped into his hair, his breathing heavy. "Can't… Can't we talk about this? Where this all…" A few erratic pants. "All came from just… so-so suddenly…?!" He waved his arms around. "Can we just like… _not_ just skim around the fact that this came, like… out-of-the-blue, so suddenly I can't even comprehend half of this? Like… is this really _happening_?! Like right now? Is this real…?! This could just be me, though… and it's not like… a you-thing. I think I'm panicking a little bit…"

It was pathetic that shame kept me from helping him. He, who was having a potential panic attack. I didn't even reach out an arm. I just looked at the whole scene with a vaguely-concerned look. It was a little luck of his own that he was able to calm down. He took a few more breaths, each getting longer than the previous one, and eventually he released the grip from his hair. Instead, he moved his hands now to hug himself, shutting his eyes and giving several shaky breaths. The air turned stagnant for a little while, only disrupted by Marco's thick breathing, breaking up the heavy air for a short bit before it smothered us again.

After it permeated with the salt of his tears, he finally opened his eyes, looking down. "There… There really _is_ nothing I can do to convince you, is there…" I didn't say anything then, either. I wasn't even sure he was asking a question outside of rhetoric.

I watched for Brian, signaled for him to return to the coach. I turned away from Marco completely then, focused my eyes out the window, feeling hollow. "Just take us back to his home, Brian."

Brian soon returned, a disappointed look on his face. "Yessir…" He replied, melancholy. He started up the coach, snapped down the reigns, and soon the fiery portal lead us right back into Marco's room, over the exact spot we charred last time.

Marco himself opened the door, stepped out slowly, his things in hand. His body was low, one arm to his shoulder. He looked back at me with a broken expression, heart sunk.

I took a breath. "So… I guess this is… goodbye."

"Yeah…" He murmured. "Guess so." He looked up at me with eyes beginning to wet with tears. "…Goodbye, Tom."

I grimaced, but nodded, and slowly closed the door. I motioned to Brian, who started back up the car. The surroundings changed from the Diaz's humble home, back to the grandiose dark of Hell. The car clopped through the sturdy stonework to the gates of the mansion. I felt my face heat up, and I whimpered, letting the tears fall from my face.

"Goodbye, Marco."


	9. Chapter 9: Making Things Right

**Chapter 9: Making Things Right**

* * *

Hardly half an hour had passed between the time the portal opened with the intention of leaving, and when it opened with the intention of returning. Of course, I hadn't even known at the time that it wasn't making a trip back out with Marco in tow; I only thought then that Marco had just forgotten something. And when the portal did reopen, and the chariot came to its halting stop, and Marco exited it thereafter, his expression low, eyes not meeting back with Tom's. Tom himself quietly spoke a few words in a blue tone – words that, from my distance, I couldn't make out – nodded, then closed the door to his impressive chariot. The deep thud resonated before the flaming vortex to his home reopened, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone again, leaving Marco and I alone with the scorch that remained, the thick smell of smoke suffocating the air around us.

A few moments passed after Tom's departure, the air stagnant with that same smoky smell, Marco simply standing there, bag limply in his fingertips. The atmosphere around him was smoky as well, yes, but it also had an unmistakable stiffness and chill to it.

And although I was uneasy, I decided the best thing to do would be to try and cheer him up; seemed logical, right? I stepped over to him, giving my best smile. "So~ Marco," I started. "How'd everything go? Why're you back so early?" I asked in my bubbliest tone.

However, Marco didn't speak a word back to me, eyes still cast in the same direction where Tom's chariot once stood.

"Marco?" I frowned, then shook his shoulder a little. "Oh come on, Marco, don't be so down in the dumps. What happened?"

"Like you don't know," He responded swiftly, his voice low and shallow I could hardly hear it.

And honestly, I'd tried not to hear it. His voice was laced with such malice, such cold iciness, I couldn't imagine he'd ever speak to me like that. There was a pause of silence between us; I was torn on whether or not to continue this line of conversation, seeing the branching path out in front of me. "Wh…What do you mean, Marco?"

A thud. His bag slipped from his fingertips to the ground, the newly-freed hand balled up in a tight fist, shaking. His head turned just enough that I could see his deep-brown eye – where once, it was a liquid amber now hard like oak – and his sharp scowl. He stepped closer to me, then closer again, closer _again_ , and I found myself backing up from his seething march. "Like _you don't know_ what happened between me and Tom after _you're_ the one who filled his head up with all that _shit_!"

I froze in my tracks, dumbstruck, his words like a slap to my face. He'd never spoken to me like that. Ever. "M-Marco…?"

"Like you don't know, Star. I _heard_ you two arguing. I _heard_ him yell. I heard you _torturing him_ with your mind games, telling him he's bound to lose it one of these days. And even if I hadn't heard, I could tell. He didn't sound like himself, Star. He didn't sound like how he did when _I_ talked to him – when… when it was just him and me, just… together, alone. He sounded so hopeful when I talked to him. 'Oh it's alright though; it'll get better.' That's the kind of stuff he said to me, before we came back to grab my stuff. And… And after? 'Oh, I can't do this Marco; I can't risk even the smallest chance that I might possibly ever hurt you.' Those are the words _you_ fed him, Star! _You_ made him believe that!" His voice began to rise, sharp and deadly like broken glass. "God… All I wanted was just… a nice, normal date and sleepover with him. Y'know, cuz he's been the _only_ person to _ever_ ask me out in my entire life! Nothing was even going wrong – even-even _remotely_ going wrong until _you_ messed everything up!" His voice wavered and cracked apart, torn open by his still-raging anger and sorrow, eyes beginning to prick with tears. "I was having the night of my life with someone who was _super_ nice, and who really, really _understood_ me. And that's gone now… The _one_ person that actually finds something in me worth asking out, and he's gone. You _ruined my date_ , Star; ruined my night. Who knows? Tom and I could've gone so far, and I could see it too. Like right away we clicked, just like that. I could've seen us going months together, just getting to know each-other. Who knows? It could've been that we'd just… never work out, and everything'd fizzle out in less than a week. But now I'll _never know_ , because of _you_." He stood there a moment, the atmosphere thick with his tears, his heart in his throat that he was trying to swallow down. The whole situation had still yet to really just… _hit_ me yet; the only thing that was getting through to me was Marco's anger and frustration and hurt. "I can't believe you, of _all people_ , would _ever_ try to do this to me, Star; and even if you didn't mean to hurt me, you definitely meant to hurt _him_. And that… that hurt _me_."

I looked over his tightened face, his teeth clenched together to bite back his tears. "Well, Marco… um…" I started, mind blank on what to say, but I had to say _something_. "It's not _that_ bad, is -"

His eyes widened in an absolute fury. "YOU RUINED _EVERYTHING_ , STAR! EVERYTHING!" He cried out, tears falling from his face – a sight and sound enough to make my heart stop in its tracks. "I can't believe you would think _any_ of this is-is even _remotely_ acceptable!" He quickly grabbed up his bag and pushed past me, heading for his room.

And I was still standing there, dumbfounded and frozen in place by shock. I finally blinked a few times, turned around, "Marco, w-wait…"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" Slam. I hardly got a chance to breathe a word before the door was in my face. And I stood there, with the door in my face, mulling through what's transcended these past few hours. Was I… wrong about Tom? Even after everything he'd done to me? No, no, that couldn't be the case; only six measly months of work couldn't be enough to change him, and the ridiculous pace he was forcing on Marco clearly wasn't healthy or right.

I couldn't be in the wrong here.

But there I stood, still reeling from Marco's anger, his words cutting through me deep. Honestly, it was the only thing that cast a stone in this great sea of confidence I had was Marco himself. Despite knowing myself how Tom is, despite everything I've tried to tell him about Tom, he just _doesn't listen_. And with all of his stubbornness, I was beginning to have the sinking feeling that he had this skewed idea of who Tom was; after all, he's never dated a single person in his life. These suggestions of sleeping over, showing him around the town, it might seem just like a fairy tale, with Tom as his prince. But that was far from true. Or… was it? Maybe… Maybe I really _was_ just wrong, and all of Marco's passion, all of his hope, all of their quick-paced and ridiculous plans… maybe they were… okay? It sounded ridiculous as I thought about it, but to Marco – Marco, who's never had a single person interested in him – maybe it seemed okay. Maybe the way Tom was – fast-paced, headstrong, and with all his wild abandon – maybe it seemed okay to him too. I know he was like that with me. Maybe in a weird way, it was okay to both of them, and they'd finally settle down. I only _hoped_ they wouldn't continue on this quickly.

There I stood, still reeling from Marco's anger, still thinking deeply over what had transpired. And there I stood, and there I heard. I heard tears – Marco's tears, loud and miserable, lost and empty, wailing. And each sob tore little holes in my heart. No matter how ridiculous they were moving in such a short time, no matter how little I trusted Tom, _I_ was the one who made it all go bad; I was the one who set Tom up to leave. No matter what they decided to do, it was… outlandish of me to make him so paranoid; at least that, I would own up to, and Marco's tears only reinforced that.

I had some major crap of mine to clean up, and I had to admit, I needed help.

" _Hey_ , Fonzo and Ferg~! What's going on?"

I assume the two of them had been hanging out at Alfonzo's place, because both of them were present on the interdimensional mirror. "Yo, Star, what's up?" Ferguson waved, a smile on his face. "Where's Marco?"

I grimaced, rubbing the back of my neck. "Well, see… that's the thing… I…" I sighed, the sheer shame holding down my voice. "I _really_ messed up here, guys."

Alfonzo knit his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I _really_ messed up." Another sigh. "You know Tom?"

"The incubus dude?"

"Yeah, the – wait, he's not an _incubus_ , jeez! He's just a demon." I huffed, hands on my hips. "But yeah, you both met him – the gray skin and the big chariot thing. Horns and all that."

"Yeah. The incubus dude."

Why he decided to insist Tom was somehow an incubus was beyond me; but then again, I suppose humans have very little idea that there's a difference in them at all. "Ugh! Whatever. Yeah, Tom. Well… I really messed up with him. I kinda… kinda made him go away."

"Go away?" Ferguson looked concerned. "How?"

"I insulted him a lot and now he left Marco… so now I need you guys' help."

"Wait… how does you making fun of this guy have to do with Tom leaving Marco?"

I groaned, not wanting to further myself into this hole of embarrassment and shame. "Okay, so, I don't know if you know this, but Tom has all sorts of anger problems, so I made him worry that he'd hurt Marco eventually with them, so he left Marco to kinda like… protect him? In a way? Ugh… either way, Marco's crying up in his room right now, and he _really_ needs you guys' help right now."

Alfonzo quickly nodded, taking Ferguson's large arm to lead him out. "Okay man, we'll be there in like ten minutes okay? And what're you gonna do in the meantime?" Ferguson was blurting out in a choppy tone, trying to keep his phone's FaceTime in line with his face.

I looked down. Well, I had this whole plan in mind, but, would I truly be able to put it into motion? After all – and with all the actions I'd done to this point – I'd proven I was nothing but a coward; a coward holding on so desperately to a past that was long forgotten. How could I face Tom again? After so crudely shoving him off to a side, opening the exposed wound of his insecurities? I couldn't possibly go back up to him now, fess up that I'd done wrong, even though it was true that I _did_ , in fact, do wrong. So much wrong. How could I confront him, and try to _seem_ as genuine as I was, after saying what I did? I sighed, steeled my resolve, then gave a determined look to the mirror. "I'm gonna make things right."

I at least had the courtesy to wait for the two boys to arrive before I'd try to go off to confront Tom… _again_. They'd swarmed down the door, pushing around frantically, asking, "Where's Marco?! Where's our bro?!" And I calmly directed them to his door.

Ferguson knocked on the door – not pounding, but with a sense of haste. "Marco? Marco, bro, you okay?"

"We heard about what happened, man – let us in!"

And in that moment, the sobs quickly died down to an uncertain silence. And more silence, then more, the door acting as a cold barrier between us and his unknown condition; but the door slowly opened a crack, just enough to see one side his flushed face, a puffy eyelid, a bloodshot eye, dried tears down one cheek. That eye scanned over the three of us, and he sniffled. "Fine; but… but only Fonz and Ferg. Not you." He glared at me, his voice weak, but very much venomous.

And I didn't blame him; the picture was beginning to put itself together, and I, at least, could show the courtesy that I didn't harbor any resentment for his resentment of me. "I understand…" I said it an even tone, his eyes still eating into me, even after he let Ferguson and Alfonzo into his room, right up until he closed the door.

"Like," I could hear his battered voice, muffled behind the doorframe. "You guys must be thinking like 'oh, how stupid you're crying over a guy you met like three hours ago', but like… it's not like that.

"Bro, neither of us assumed that at all; I mean, it's heartbreak all the same, isn't it? It's gotta suck."

"He didn't even break my heart! He… It's almost like he broke his own. Like… I'm not even kidding when I say that tonight with him was… _perfect_ ; nothing went wrong. And it's that fact paired up with the fact that he just… dropped everything because of what _Star_ did. Like, it all got nipped in the bud before we could even _tell_ what it was gonna be – if it was gonna rot out or if it would've bloomed out beautiful. I guess… that's the loss I'm feeling right now. And it seems like I'm crying over like… 'oh, he was the _one_! And he got taken from me!' and I'm not, because… that's… that's childish, y'know? I'll admit, I'm a mess like this cuz he's… y'know, gone… but, it's not over any… overestimation of what he is, we were, or what we could've been. Like… y'know what I mean?" He asked in a tearstained voice.

"It's like a puppy dying before it gets to be a big mastiff."

"Fonz, no… I… I think I'd cry more over the puppy than any boyfriend. That… just made me feel worse…"

I decided to depart my ears from their eavesdropping, returning upstairs to quickly grab my dimensional scissors in my room. I snipped up a hole connecting Earth to Hell, and stepped through, immediately being faced with the dry, prickling heat – and, worse, the imposing, large black castle that was the Blood Moon Manor.

…I probably should've thought the plan through a little better; I couldn't get into the castle without permission, or sneaking in. So, what else would I do but decide on the latter! I searched around the parameter for any entrance into the building, be it an open window, a secret hatch, but ended up finding none. So it looked like I had to make one myself! I brandished my wand as it glowed in its ardent, confident beauty. "Fantastic giant marble doorway-fier!" I shouted, blasting the shimmering beam at the obsidian wall, creating a marble doorway in its place. When I entered, I found myself having made the door in conjunction to… just an average-looking hallway. It had been several months since I'd last been in Tom's home, so I wasn't very familiar with it anymore; that, and it was a four-story castle, so it was large and expansive, and… easy to get lost in! Admittedly, some of the hellish servants gave me a perplexed look, seeing as how they hadn't seen me in so long. Either way, in a cordial tone, I asked one of them, "Where's… _Prince_ Tom? I'd like to have a word with him."

"Ah, Princess Butterfly," The servant said curtly. "Prince Tom isn't taking guests right now; he's been in a bad way since he got home."

"Oh, pee-shaw, good sir! I can handle him; I mean after all, he _is_ my ex-boyfriend."

The servant looked to me, and I tried my biggest smile with the cutest puppy-dog eyes I could. He sighed. "Okay, fine. But only because you said you could – and, you didn't get permission from _me_ , okay?"

I gave an eager giggle. "Yessir!" Nodded, and followed along hastily as he lead me down the long, long, velvety hallway. But soon, this velvety hallway led to a door marked 'Authorized Personnel Only Please', and past that door was now… only average hallways with less stellar, but still ornate, decorations.

And as we approached, I began to hear the thick, resonating sound, abrupt and destructive, and it only grew louder and more furious as I approached. As we approached, the hallways grew… almost dauntingly dark, the candelabras meant to light the way having been snuffed out and thrown aside, scattered alongside books, shattered busts, other decorations that were once beautiful, now indecipherable and destroyed. And, as we approached, I couldn't help notice the servant becoming increasingly tense.

It was then I could make out the growling – no, _snarling_. The snarling and gnashing, the tearing.

"H-Here he is, ma'am." The servant stuttered out, arm shaky as he showed me to Tom's bedroom. Under the scars and rakes, chips, the door was a lie; the destroyed woodwork revealed not to be a prim and intricate door fit for a prince, but rather, a beaten up and heavy iron door fit for a prisoner, hidden under the guise of poise and beauty.

" _This_ … is Tom's room?" And, honestly, I was baffled; of course, I'd _been_ to Tom's room a few months, but… never had it looked this… disheveled.

I couldn't deny the snarls I heard from behind the door, the guttural shrieks, that shook the skin around the servant's bones. "Hi-His room for now, m-ma'am. Now, I'm afraid I have to leave! And-And again…! You didn't hear it from me!" And before I even had a chance to speak up, the servant was down the hallway, turning the corner, then… gone.

…There was obviously a sense of deep trepidation in me as the large, wood-and-steel door loomed over me, the muffled cries behind it enough to make me want to turn and run, just as the servant did before.

But, by then, I was well aware of what and who I was responsible for; I was responsible for both Marco and Tom now, both of their frustrations and sadness. So, not without a thick gulp and an attempt to steel my nerves, I slowly pushed open the door, my wand in hand.

I was met with a bellowing cry, a snarl, a mess of red eyes, the flame of red hair, the tips of his claws, the sharp, heavy clanks of his restraints.

I saw Tom there, feral, chained against the far wall like an animal, fighting against the restraints that kept him from lunging at my throat. I approached him slowly as he continued to fight futilely, his three blood-red eyes focused on me, his _anger_ focused on me. He screeched again and tried to fight against the steel cuffs that bound him by chain to the wall.

"Tom…?" I started, stopping a good distance before him.

As he pulled against the weight of his restraints, his deep scowl began to twitch at the edge of his lips, then eventually faded along with his growls. He paused briefly, the fire in his hair turned back to strands, his breath evened, his tense limbs began to relax; claws retracted back to fingernails. He embraced his forehead and gave a light groan, and as his eyes opened, they were his again, irises and all. They were tired, along with every fiber of his body – exhausted, really; burnt out by his own infuriation.

These three worn eyes finally looked up to me, and he asked in an equally-worn voice, "Star…?" They finally focused on my form. "How long have… you been there?" He squinted, tried to move a few steps towards me. "Why am I –" A clink. As he reached a hand towards me, the chains tensed and restricted him any further. He looked to that hand then, looked at it quite a long time, his eyes following the shackles that lead to the chains that bolted to the wall. "Oh… I see." He responded in a tone washed of all emotion. He looked down, then back up to me, gave a pathetic chuckle. "Well… it, uh… it happened. Everything I didn't want, I guess; I don't… really know _what_ happened. And I guess that's the bad part." He stepped back a few paces, allowing himself to sit down against the wall, humbly accepting this… prison of his. "I didn't expect myself to; after all, I… lost control." Another weak laugh. " _Again_ , right?"

"Tom…" I started again, holes punching into my heart at the display. "I'm so sorry…"

"No, Star; _I'm_ sorry. I'm sorry that I ever thought that… I'd be anything more than _this_." He motioned to the room around him – torn wallpaper, charred ground, "I'm guessing it's worse outside; I… stopped remembering right when I left my room; I imagine it's all gone to shit from there to here." He folded his hands into his lap. "Six months of work… All for…" A sigh, long and disappointed. "And you're probably just, like, thinking, 'oh, he's just some kid I just met', but… it's so weird that it's not like that. _I'm_ surprised I freaked out this bad over a kid and some ruined date; I have those, all the time, _without_ me having to break it off. I've had so many other flings here and there and… this wasn't like any of them. They were all jokes before, either arranged or… they were using me – or both. Both happened sometimes too. But here's this… this human. This unassuming human, that I just treated to the first date of his life, first _kiss_ of his life… and I just… _really_ liked him. And maybe I went too fast with the whole 'meeting my parents' thing, but we'd come down to eat here, and then I wanted to show him the garden arrangement Dad had made, and… it all just snowballed from there – because I genuinely _liked_ him, and we were both _okay_ with it, too. And out of all the people I've ever dated, _ever_ … he's really the only one that looked at me and talked to me _for me_. Everyone else was occupied by the royalty thing, or the half-breed issue – if they knew about it – or… or _this_." He raised his restrained arms with a sad expression. "Never enough talk about _this_ ; and I admit, Marco did… bring it up a few times, but he didn't go ahead and let it dominate what he thought of me, like most people; he actually… actually focused on the _recovery_ I was trying to make – the _effort_ – rather than… than the destruction. Even when I went ahead and told him everything about it – and by then, I was comfortable telling him about it – he didn't make me feel like… like I was wrong to be angry, or like I was a freak. The people I dated before, oh, they couldn't get enough of the anger thing, checking on me every _five_ minutes asking 'You _sure_ you're not angry?' And every time something peeved me in the _slightest_ , it was always, 'Are you… _angry_? Should I be afraid?' Like _how dare I_ ever feel like this." His words jabbed at me then; only a few hours ago at the Blood Moon Ball did I ask him that same question. "But Marco… he made me feel normal for once. Like, the time we spent going to and from place to place, we just talked about the stupidest shit; we talked about _rocks_. It was so easy to talk to him, like, we vibed off each-other immediately, and it felt so natural; he didn't linger on the heavy stuff for too long, because he genuinely cared about _my_ comfort for once, instead of everyone policing me every five fucking seconds 'Are you angry? Are you angry?' And we were _able_ to talk about heavy stuff when it came to mind, without him being like everyone else. It's like I've known him a long time, but… I also knew I didn't know anything about him, and I really wanted to learn more, and I guess that's where the sleepover came in. And him being… being really cute was just an added bonus, I guess. I really could… see myself going far with him. Even as just, like, friends, if nothing else would work out between us. Though, I guess, leaving things as they were was… for the best." Tom looked up to me with a fractured expression. "You were right, Star."

"No, I'm not!" I shouted, almost immediately in response to him. "I was never right, Tom! I… I said all those things so you would get away from Marco! I was being possessive and… and unforgiving and stupid!"

He gave another weak laugh. "Stupid? After what I did to you? Star, you can't tell me our last little confrontation didn't… leave something behind all those months ago?" I grimaced, pulled up my shirt slightly. And indeed, there were discolored marks on my torso, scars from the cuts he himself had given me months before. "I didn't… protect you enough from me, Star; told myself everything would be fine between us… till we started fighting. And I still didn't cut us off until… until I figured out just how… _little_ self-control I had in the end. He took a long look at the patchy skin, once flawless. "And now you'll always have that… because of me. I can't bear the risk of doing that to Marco, and you were right; six months isn't enough time for progress, as you can clearly see. This could've all happened to him."

I gave a loud groan, threw my arms up in the air. "But you just don't get it, Tom! This never would've happened if I wasn't holding on to the past! And you've done nothing but be good and try to look to the future, and I've just been… been a butt. I've been the biggest butt imaginable! Marco is, like, the _last_ person you'd get into an argument with, and you already said you liked him a lot and vibed off him and wanted to take him for a cute, getting-to-know-you sleepover! Which is super cute! Look, I want to give you two a second chance." I offered gingerly.

He scoffed. "A second chance? Star, I don't… think I should _have_ a second chance. Look at me! I couldn't… couldn't keep myself calm enough not to lose control after all this grief and anger at… nothing in particular. Six months didn't do… jack shit for me in the end."

I looked over him – over his form. He was… defeated, his head hung low, eyes downcast. He really didn't have… _any_ resolve left in him. And it was all because of me. "Look, Tom, I'll bring you back to yourself, okay? I may have jiggled you _out_ of yourself, but I'm gonna put you back!"

His expression didn't change. "I mean, you could _try_ , by all means, but… I've pretty much made up my mind."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "We'll see about that."

And as I turned and exited, I snipped a portal to the Earth's surface. More specifically, to Marco's room. His two best friends were snuggled close to him as they watched some stupid YouTube videos from Ferguson's iPad, hoping to cheer Marco up in the darkness, only illuminated by the screen and their scattered laughter. They didn't speak a word to each-other, and frankly, I don't think they needed to; they were simply enjoying each-other's company quietly, finding victory in Marco's smiles.

But it all dissipated as I entered the room; Marco paused their video, and his smile slowly faded, replaced with bitterness in his scowl. "Star," He greeted sourly. "What do you want?"

"I wanna show you something." I answered as innocuously as possible.

"I don't wanna see something you have to offer; if it's an apology, I don't forgive you – not yet."

I flinched at the intensity of his words, but I didn't relent. "Please, Marco; it isn't about my apology to you, but you _have_ to see it." I begged. "Please."

He looked between his two friends, both returning a sympathetic look. "Do whatever you feel you wanna do bro; we'll be rooting for you either way."

And after looking to Alfonzo, he sighed, then finally nodded. "Okay, Star, fine. I'll go with you. But don't expect me to forgive you over it, okay? Where are we gonna go?"

I motioned to the newly-cut portal. "Through there."

He gave me a wavering look, but soon after I entered the portal, he followed, pulling his crimson hood over his head in the sudden light of Tom's… makeshift room. He froze at the sight around him – the torn-up walls, broken glass – but I knew what truly iced his feet to the floor, despite the heat of Hell: it was Tom, chains loosely strewn on the ground as his back was to the wall, allowing some fluidity and freedom to his arms and legs. He gave a soft, weak smile from across the room as he saw his old date enter. "Hey, Marco… How're you doing?"

"Tom…?" Marco looked to him in a quiet shock, quickly moving over to kneel by him, looking over his chains in disbelief. "What in the – Why… Why did they do this to you?"

"Well, I _am_ a danger to myself and others, and… y'know, I already told you what kind of thin ice I'm on. So… going to a health clinic isn't an option. So they just hole me up in a different room – away from all of the public, of course – till I calm down. It's just the way it goes."

"But… But they're treating you like a monster… This isn't right… How could they just…" He looked to Tom's resigned expression with a worse shock than he gave the situation itself. "They couldn't do _anything else_?"

Tom shook his head. "Not with the circumstances I'm given." He looked up to him and pet his cheek reassuringly. "Marco, don't worry about it; I'm okay now, so… I'll be out soon."

"That's not what I'm upset about! You're missing the point! The fact that they lock you up in here like a prisoner and pretend you don't exist till you… you ' _behave_ like you're supposed to' – it's utter bull! It's just… It's just not right! They're just… trying to pretend this isn't real, and it isn't fair."

He gave a deep sigh, then looked past Marco to me. "Star, what was the point of this?"

I looked to Marco, his expression a mix of deep concern, and sheer fury. "Well, can't you tell? Look at him, Tom! He cares so much about you. Now look, I know I messed up and gave you those stupid ideas in your head, but look! Nothing about your feelings for each-other've changed! And I know you're gonna be all 'but I _lost control_! Blah-BLAH! I'm a _DANGER_!' But really, that was all me! And I'm so, so, _so_ sorry for that, but really! You're ten-times better than that! Come on! Give him a chance! Doesn't _he_ at least deserve one?"

Tom looked to Marco, who gave a small smile in exchange. "And you kinda… _do_ owe me dessert." He added.

"Oh yeah…" Tom gave a chuckle in response. "I do, don't I…" He heaved a deep sigh of consideration, looking at his shackles, then to Marco. "But do you _really_ want to have to deal with me? With… _this_?"

"Yes." Marco answered almost immediately, his expression unwavering.

And Tom was stunned at this, though his tiredness bogged down the severity of his astonishment. "Well… okay then." And in part, I knew he caved so quickly because he _did_ want to give their relationship another chance, and Marco's unshakable resolve just gave him all the less reason to fear himself. "Just, um… Go get my mom and dad, and when they see I've calmed down, they'll let me out, okay?"

I nodded, then looked to Marco. "You can stay here with him, okay? I'll go get his parents."

When he quickly agreed, I went to find the throne room, remembering it from the months ago when I'd visited them the first time. I only wondered how it would go over; after all, his mother was an imposing man, with sharp features and an always-sharp expression. His father seemed to be a little easier to talk to, his demeanor cooler, but he was hardly ever far from his husband.

And when they bid me enter was no different. He was sitting in the larger throne, pose relaxed, his hooves dangling over the side by his husband, who occasionally shooed them away when they got too close to his face. Now, Tom's father was devil; what this meant was that he was red. Very, very, _very_ red. He was always dressed more casually than Tom's mother, and I really do think it reflected his view of royalty pretty well. I don't think I've ever seen him in anything fancier than a button-down, and he always wore shorts, since jeans could never compensate for his thrice-jointed legs, especially not the hooves at the bottom. That's probably also why he never wore shoes. His eyes were perpetually yellow, though they seemed more golden when he was happy and smiling, and almost looked metallic in his very rare occurrences of anger; his hair would catch aflame in times like this too. His red horns jutted out of the top of his forehead like lightning bolts; he got stuck in doors very often because of these few additional inches to his already-tall frame.

Both of Tom's mothers are demons, and because of this, Tom had more similarities with his stepmother than with his biological father. It's funny to me how little physical similarities he shared with him, though he was very akin to him in other places. But, like Tom, his mother's horns protruded from the sides of his head, and were bare bone, rather than from the front of his forehead and swathed in red skin, like his father's. He also had the gray skin, sharp teeth, and three eyes, though they were black instead of Tom's red. And after marrying Tom's father, the story goes that he was so disgusted with the casual way Anders took to the whole royalty-business that Obelus worked twice as hard to be more regal and royal, just to pick up the slack. That's apparently why he'll always wear the traditional, long, flowing robes with the intricate designs, why he always holds himself so majestically. I guess one of the only things Tom shared with his dad physically was his hands; Obelus's hands were knobbed, with long, tipped claws that was very unlike his regality, though, genetically, it was an inevitability; Tom had, I guess, 'normal' hands, like his father did. That, and his ears; while a devil's ears appeared to be more cow-like, a demon's looked like elves, and didn't have the ability to move up and down like a devil's does. I guess Tom only got the really subtle details from his dad. The only things his first mother had claim to were his red eyes, his pointed nose, and the Blood Moon crest, which were the markings on his eyes. I'm not sure if they're genetic, or if they're tattoos bestowed unto him at a certain age, but his forefathers all had them.

Obelus did not, but it didn't matter anyway; his cold, black eyes pierced through me as he saw me approach them from the long hall to the throne. Anders finally readjusted his position to… _try_ to be regal, though he didn't pull it off _at all_. "Greetings, Star Butterfly," Obelus spoke in his usual upturned tone, his three eyes seeming to judge me negatively no matter what I tried to do.

"Um… hey guys!" I greeted as best as I could, silently cursing myself that I could never ever _really_ pull off the whole 'formal' thing. It sounds lot better and appropriate in my head, and as I narrate, but the words always come out a mess of casualty as I speak.

"You're here to tell me that you've reclaimed Tom to the seat of royalty, rather than that human pup, yes?"

I gave my best smile, though my eyes told a much more nervous story. "…No…? I'm here to ask you to let him out, cuz he's… y'know, a lot better now and not… trying to destroy things anymore."

"For now." He added in a tone no more amused.

"For a while! I hope! Look, I _know_ he's gonna get better! And on top of that, you can't just _keep_ him in there, especially now that he's back to normal."

"I understand that; but if it is your intention to have him continue a relationship with that human, I'll have to ask you two to leave before I release him."

I scoffed, utterly shocked by his words. " _WHAT_?! You _can't_ be serious!"

Anders took his husband's arm. "Hey, babe, just… go easy on the kids, okay? Let the kid date who he wants to date, and let him out of the room, okay? Or you can be Mr. Pouty-Wowty and I'll go let him out myself."

"Don't you dare degrade me with such nicknames…" He spat out, venom in his tone.

But Anders took his husband's cheeks between his fingers and squished them. "Mr. Pouty- _Wowty_ ~ Oh, you look so upset." He babbled in a babying tone. "So upset, Mr. Pouty-Wowty."

Obelus gripped Anders's hand and pulled it away. "Just let the boy out."

"Alright then; that's what I like to hear. Now c'mon, Star, come with me." He rose, stretched, his ears twitching a bit.

I followed Tom's dad from the throne room back to the restricted area. "Thank you, Your Highness, for that… back there."

"Oh, it's no problem, kid; you usually just gotta annoy him enough that he stops bothering you. I'm just sorry he always gets away with saying all this shit around you kids; it isn't fair; he doesn't wanna let Tom just be a kid for a while, y'know? And Tommy seemed so excited when he talked about that Marco kid. And I don't think he meant it like 'oh, he's the _one_ , Daddy! He's the _one_!' but, I have to say, Marco's the first one he's dated from his own decision in… a long while. Not even you were a decision of his own."

I looked down. "Yeah, I figured; when Mom and Dad just let me meet him one day… I knew it was all prepared."

A beat.

"So… why do you let Obelus do what he wants all the time?"

"Because, well… I wasn't from royalty myself, kid. Tom's mom was; she married a peasant. And when she died, I had no idea how to run this kingdom at _all_. So… Obelus married me to try and take the reigns back; after all, he was who Tom's mother was supposed to marry in the first place, but she shot him down."

"I can see why…"

"So it's kinda funny that this all happened. But I bear no ill-will; in fact, I really do love him, and he loves me. And he loves Tom too; he really does. He just… wants to restore the traditional system and have Tom marry a demon in another kingdom. But… since he's a… a 'hybrid', as I like to call it – nicer way to call it – he hasn't had many demons knocking on our doors." His Highness looked down, gave a sigh. "So he's just settled to just have Tom marry into royalty, since he's already fucked up in the genetic department, though he does still try to get him hooked up with a demon girl every now and then."

I grimaced. "Oooh… that's… nice?"

"Well, it's bittersweet to say the least; that's why I'm hoping Tom's gonna marry someone he loves, like his mother did. It turned out a lot better for her." He had finished saying as he opened the door to Tom's temporary holding. His eyes melted to that liquid gold. "…Hey, kiddo."

"Hey, Dad." Tom greeted, his voice having gained a little more energy now with Marco there, sitting next to him.

"You ruined your suit."

"I did. I… did. Sorry about that."

He kneeled down by his son, taking a key from his pocket and undoing the shackles that bound his ankles. "It's okay, Tom." He reassured in a wavering voice. "I'm sorry I end up doing this to you all the time; I hate… seeing you like this, y'know? You're not… You're not a monster… You're my baby boy…" He bit down on his lip, trying to fight back the tears. I couldn't even begin to imagine how he felt, having to stand on the other end of Tom's rage, having to chain down his own son, having to treat him like the prisoner he knew Tom wasn't. It must've eaten away at him, and certainly the sight of a torn-up room with his son in the center was a sight to behold.

Tom sighed, wiped a stray tear from his father's eye. "Don't cry, Dad." He gave him his best reassuring smile. "You just did what you had to do, y'know? And it's over now, so… I'll be okay."

He nodded as he undid the last of Tom's chains, immediately holding him in a tight embrace thereafter. "Just promise me you'll be good…"

"I promise, Daddy. I promise."

King Anders sniffled, then nodded, letting go of Tom finally. "Is Marco still staying over tonight?"

Tom looked over to Marco, who shrugged. "I'd still need to go back and get my stuff… but… sure, yeah."

"I guess he's staying over." Tom confirmed.

"Alright." He let out a deep breath to expel the tears in his voice. "I'll set up a bed for you, alright? In the meanwhile, Tom, go get changed."

"Oh yeah, I was planning on it." Tom held up his arm, whose sleeve was now ribbons. "Planning. On it."

I looked to Marco, not wanting to touch him in any way as I usually would, since I still wasn't sure if he was okay with me, currently. "Here, then we'll go back to your place, Marco, and come back when we get your stuff."

He helped Tom up from his spot, smiling at him warmly. "Alright, let's go. Tom, I'll meet back up with you in a second, okay?"

"Sounds fair enough." He stretched, smiling back at him.

"Oh, and Tom –" I started, grabbing his attention. "Just… slow it down a little, okay?"

He looked perplexed. "So… no sleepover?"

"No, that's fine, but… everything after. Just… dial the pace back a little."

"Can and will do." He nodded, leaving the razed room with his father, as meanwhile we left through the portal.

…I felt I didn't have the right to apologize anymore, no matter how sorry I still felt. And as we returned, silence grew between us as the situation finally cooled down, filling the room with a stagnant and empty air. "Star…" Marco started.

I could faintly hear Alfonzo in particular talking downstairs with Marco's dad about Grey's Anatomy. "Yeah?" I asked, a brace in my voice. I was all prepared for him to scream at me again.

But as his gaze finally met mine, his expression was soft. "Thanks for realizing you were stupid. I know you were just trying to protect me, but… thanks for realizing that was a stupid way to do it."

"Yeah… I mean, thank _you_ for making me understand that. And I hope things go nice between you and Tom; he really is a nice guy."

He gave a quick grin. "After all the times you called him a jerk?"

"Well he's nice to you! Oh psht! Go-Go get your stuff!" I pushed him onto his bed, then quickly went to snatch up his bag before him, "Catch!" Then tossed it onto the bed with him.

"Hey –!" He grabbed onto it quickly. "Oh, what was the point of that!?"

I cut a portal to a different point in Tom's house. "Just to mess with ya. Here, you go have fun now; I'll tell Alfonzo and Ferguson what happened, okay?"

"It's like you're trying to chase me out now, jeez!" He gave a small laugh. "But… tell them 'thanks', okay? For being the best bros a guy could have." He put a foot through the portal. "And also that Ferguson left his iPad in my room, and I really don't want him to lose it."

"I'll just bring it to him."

"And Star… I forgive you, okay? Just don't do this again, okay?"

I gave a deep sigh, his words relieving me of about twenty pounds of stress, my hands clasped over my chest. "Thank you, Marco."

"Oh, come here." He stepped towards me and gave me a tight hug, rocked me a little. "You're welcome."

"Just… take care, okay? Have fun, get to know him."

"I will, I will. I promise I'll be safe, okay? Bye for now, Star." He finally stepped through the portal, and it closed after him.

A smile came onto my face. "…Bye, Marco!"


	10. Chapter 10: The Outer Kingdom

**Chapter 10: The Outer Kingdom**

* * *

I couldn't believe what Star had done for me, honestly. Sure, I forgave her, said my 'goodbye for now,' but I just couldn't _believe_ it all happened – any of it. That Tom had even broken up with me in a tearstained endeavor to save what we never had, and that we recovered something we never gained, now standing before each-other in a situation that never should've begun nor ended.

But it happened anyway, and… it was really awkward, to say the least. Star's portal had dropped me off in the middle of the Blood Moon Manor's hallway. Well, one of them, anyway. As to which one and which floor I was on? I had no idea. And let me be the first to tell you: being lost in a four-story mansion in an entirely different plane of living is _not_ a place you wanna be.

So there I was, just standing in this long hallway, stretched so far I couldn't see the other ends of it, practically frozen from how overwhelmed I was. I couldn't even begin to think where I would go, and since Tom was probably moving like I was, there'd hardly be any chance our paths would cross.

But god, where _was_ I? When Tom had taken me to his parents' throne room, we'd moved so fast I couldn't tell where I was even _then_. And in any case, I didn't think that would help much, since all the hallways looked _exactly the same_ ; they're all one long stretch of red carpet with a few seats here and a few seats there, dressers with expensive stuff on it, all that jazz. I couldn't imagine living here my whole life; I'd probably always get just as lost as this.

And in the middle of my griping, a hand came over my mouth, effectively smothering my cry of surprise. "Hey, hey… Marco. Marco."

"Tom?" I asked in a muffled voice, looking down to indeed see a gray hand over my mouth.

"Hey, yeah; it's me." He released his hand from my mouth, moving it instead to wrap around my shoulder. "Hey, what's your opinion on… sneaking out?"

"Sneaking out?!" I cried. How ridiculous could he be?!

He smothered the last bit of my voice with his hand again. "Hey, hey… inside voice, please."

I pushed it off. "Sneaking out?!" I hissed, mindful of my voice. "You even told me that Brian legally _has_ to be within a certain distance of you! Is this even _allowed_?!"

"No; but that's why it's called 'sneaking out' instead of 'asking permission and having your life coach third-wheel you.' Trust me, I've done this all the time, and never once have I been caught."

And just like that, my safety-kid brain was kicking into high gear. "Well, just because you haven't been caught _yet_ doesn't mean it still can't happen! And what'll happen if you _do_ get caught? Huh?"

He shrugged. "Psht, I don't know? Get in trouble, probably."

"And what'll happen if you get in trouble?! God! Tom… it'd be one thing if your situation wasn't as… as delicate as it already is. I'm just worried they're gonna lock you up again…"

Tom brushed a hand against my cheek. "Don't worry so much, Marco; all the servants are in on it."

I groaned. Still, despite his reassurances, I felt incredibly uneasy. "Why can't you just _ask_ your mom and dad to go out?"

"Ah, well…" His ears drew back as he rubbed the back of his head. **"** Not after what happened tonight. Probably won't even let me near a door."

"Then why don't you just… lay low like they want?" I offered gingerly.

"Because everything they always do to me when it comes to this… _anger_ is always _so_ overbearing! Between all my princely duties and anger management, I hardly ever have time to just… lay low and chill; I don't _ever_ have the time. So I have to make the time elsewhere. And plus," His arms wrapped fully around my arms – not crushing, but tight – his chin on my shoulder. "I made my whole mind up because I owed you dessert right? And I've only got tonight to do it; I don't have the slightest clue what I'd do if I couldn't make that up to you."

I hesitated. Despite everything, all my gears and windings were kicked up to the fullest, resisting every urge to do anything that involved a risk. And despite the fact that Star and I have always done risky things, since she'd inevitably drag me along, it wasn't pleasant. "Still…"

"What are you worried about?" I felt his smile brush his cheek against mine.

"Just –! I don't want you in trouble, okay? I really don't want you getting hurt, or-or in a fight with your mom and dad just because you wanted to get me some dessert."

"Well, no matter what, we'd have to sneak out anyway, in order for it to just be you and me. Y'know, instead of Brian being in the next booth over like he was at dinner." He grimaced; I honestly hadn't even noticed. "It's always gonna be invasive, unless we find a way to get out ourselves." He pulled away, his left hand brushing across my neckline, then down my arm to hold my opposite hand. "What do you say? Do you trust me?"

I looked up to him. "Of course I do."

"Then c'mon, follow me." He gave my hand a squeeze.

"Ah… o-okay." I looked around for any of the people that were in on Tom's shenanigans. Or for those who weren't. I swallowed the lump of doubt in my throat. "How are we gonna get out of here?"

"Okay, so," He pulled me aside, to a darker part of the hallway. "I know this place like the back of my hand. There's a particular window on the second floor that's entirely in a blackout zone because the camera would've gotten caught up in the tree next to it anyway. So what we have to do is use that window and use that tree."

"And what about the first floor?" I found myself asking, having now been put in motion by Tom's helping me along through the hallways. "Is there a camera there?"

"Nope! It's the only way out of this house without tripping an alarm. And I've used this method like… a dozen other times, so you really don't have to worry." He shrugged, his tone smug.

But there was still – and perhaps would always be – something that irked me about taking this kind of a risk. Regardless, his words and his touches held a sort of comfort in each motion that… didn't necessarily make it feel alright, but… it made it feel a little better. "Okay… And then once we reach the garden?"

"We'll have to dodge through a few specific places around the castle's perimeter to dodge the cameras, then there's a really, really specific space where the two cameras _just_ don't meet enough to see us – a blind spot – and I'll take it from there."

And then a thought occurred to me: "Why can't we just use your dimensional scissors?"

"Because that's no fun." Tom stated, like it was a simple thing.

"But it's not _safe_." I urged.

"But it's not _fun_." Tom whined. "And plus, there won't be time for us to just… talk, y'know? If we just teleport right there."

I grimaced. "Okay, fine." I conceded, "I guess it _could_ be fun. If very dangerous, and probably a bad idea."

"Oh, Marco, lighten up." He wrapped an arm around me, helping me through the halls to this particular window that he'd mentioned previously. And he was right; flush against one of windows at the end of one of the second floor's hall was a mess of leaves and small branches, seeming that they would burst through. "This is it, here."

"I'm surprised though; why do they keep that tree around here if it looks like it'd crack through the window? Isn't that like a safety hazard? Not to mention the fact that… like… burglars could come in through there!"

"Well, no. No, that _really_ wouldn't happen. That glass there is some of the most reinforced glass in the entirety of the Underworld. Basically, the only way you'd be able to get in is if the window was already opened; otherwise, you're out of luck; I don't even think a rocket launcher could bust up these babies."

I decided to trust in his words; considering they were a wealthy and powerful family, I doubted they would leave something like their windows so unguarded. But to not be able to contain their sixteen-year-old prince? Well, he's a teenager; it seemed pretty likely that he was perhaps the one thing they _couldn't_ control around here.

Tom undid the latches to the window and pulled it open, the thick, bushy throng of leaves flinging themselves into the building. "Well, here it is: our escape route. Come on," Tom took hold of the branches and began to move the thicker brush out of the way, testing a foot out onto it to make sure it could safely support his weight. He then easily moved a good distance out onto it before he looked back to me. In turn, I was frozen in place, all the warning sirens in my head blaring that this was just _not_ a good idea. "You okay, Marco?"

My face was red by then from having held my breath. "No," I exhaled. "No, I am very much not. I mean… I could _fall_ , I could _break my leg_ , I could _die_."

"How could you die from a height like this?"

"I could fall wrong and break my neck; look, I don't… This is all kinds of bad in my brain and I'm just – I'm scared, okay?" I squeaked out, bending down by the leaves that had escaped inside and tossing them out the remaining pockets of the window.

Tom returned close to the sill then. "Then here, take my hand, and I'll do a countdown and pick you up. Is that okay?"

I whimpered, Tom pushing the tree brush aside with one hand, his other held out for me. "O-Okay… but _please_ tell me there's no more heights after this."

"There aren't." He reassured gently. I took his hand firmly with both of mine, and he held onto one. "You ready?" And with my nod, he counted down, "Three… two… one… And… step!" Tom pulled at my hand as I took a step forward – and, admittedly, I snapped my eyes shut until I felt his warm arms holding me protectively. "You okay? You nearly stumbled into me so hard we both fell."

"Oh, sorry." I murmured, finally opening my eyes to his red shirt, torn at each of its edges. God, he felt so warm – probably because of the fire he had inside of him, either figuratively or literally – and I found myself reveling in his touch more than I should have, but he didn't protest.

Instead, he scooted us towards the trunk of the tall tree, smothered in soot, and whispered, "Hey Marco… I, uh… I have to close that window."

"Hm…?" My voice was almost dazed from having been caught up in his embrace.

Tom gave me a gentle shake, finally dislodging me from my trance. "I have to close the window, okay? So I'm gonna lower you down from the tree beforehand. Then we can snuggle and walk, okay?"

"Oh –! Sorry… You're just… really warm." I found myself blushing.

"No, it's alright, it's alright." Tom chuckled. "So I'm gonna hold you around your waist here, and then I'll try and gently lower you down. From there, I think you'll be low enough that you can just hop right down."

"I think I'll be alright. I'm a karate champ, so… I think I have the dexterity to make it down safely." I bent down to grab the tree branch firmly in my hands, then swung down, dangling just above the ground to safely jump down. Tom, by then – his neck craned in a very unnatural, almost owl-like way – twisted his head back around and closed the window. For my sake, I pretended that I didn't see it. I knew he was just doing it to keep watch over me, but that made it no less creepy.

He jumped down behind me thereafter, making me jump. "Oh! Sorry!" He put his arms gently around me. "Sorry I scared you."

"No, it's okay." I reassured, myself feeling very relaxed as he held me. "Where do we have to go next?"

Tom looked around, making sure nobody important was there to catch us red-handed. "Around here. Come on," He took my hand gently and had us maneuver around the windows, under the cameras. There was a certain feeling of dubiousness that I got from sneaking around like this, and it was different from when I'd sneak around with Star. Usually because when I snuck around with Star, it wasn't so much 'sneaking around' so much as it was 'blindly going into dangerous places without permission, full force, and with wild abandon.' But I didn't mind the way she was; I only wished she would slow down every now and then, for my blood pressure's sake.

He suddenly stopped between two windows, looking up and across to the cameras above. "Okay, here we are. Now, the directions I'm gonna give you are very specific, okay? You're gonna have to move in a straight line, starting here." He marked the area with his foot. "It's the only way to get in the blind spot of the cameras. Don't worry though; I'll go first and you can follow behind." So, while cautiously checking between the two cameras, Tom moved himself stiffly across the invisible line, holding his hand out for me. I followed along, taking his hand tightly and watching him very closely as to what he was doing. "You're doing great, Marco; we're almost there."

"Y'know, there's a very good possibility that your mom or dad could be walking by and see you in those windows…" I murmured.

"Yeah, that's a good possibility; it's never happened though." Tom smiled.

When we came to the edge of the gate, Tom released my hand and focused instead on the bars of it. The palms of his hands began to turn red, and he gripped them around the bars. Except they weren't really _turning_ red, they were glowing from the heat he was generating on them. "Jesus…" I finally murmured, having finally pieced together that he was, indeed, superheating the bars enough to make them a malleable yellow. With a strain, he pulled them apart wide enough for a person to fit through.

"Here, Marco, come on. Be mindful of the heat, though; I don't want it to scorch you." He warned, trying to keep the bars as far in width as possible.

I came up to the still-yellow bars, marginally orange around the sides, with a thick gulp. I swathed my hoodie over my head, shoved my hands in my pockets so that, if anything _did_ get burned, it was my jacket and not at all my skin. Thankfully, as I did pass through, I was small enough to move through the gate unscathed. Tom came through with no mind nor care for the heated bars as, I'd assume, heat was nothing to him. On the other side, he acknowledged me momentarily with his third eye and a fang-tipped smile, then strained once again to superheat and close the bars of the gate again.

He returned to my side with an arm to wrap around my shoulder. "And here we are: the inner realms of Blood Moon Kingdom." He began to walk us onto the dense, obsidian sidewalk, making note of the people who passed us by. "Anything you wanna comment on?"

Well, of course, there were many things; considering the close proximity we had to the castle, I could comment that we were in the estate area of the kingdom; there were high-rising penthouses, proud-looking houses, adorned with expensive decorations that accented their large yards. Men and women – and any other configuration of being that was outside the binary; I could never say that I was an expert outside humans, and even then, I didn't know much – of all different kinds of species walked around in cocktail dresses and dress clothes. I could've commented on that, too. I could've commented that everywhere I looked were expensive-looking, high-end restaurants and hotels, labeled with a definitive air of formality to them. A passing glance to the window of one of these restaurants had me noticing that there were two people enjoying a pizza and a few breadsticks together, and I could've commented that this pizza wasn't like the pizza we had up on Earth; considering the woman – or at least, the one in the pink dress and pearls – was made of slime, she shared her blue slime pizza with what appeared to be a charcoal pepperoni with her partner, a reddish fellow with two tentacles where each human arm would be.

Of course, I could've commented on these things, but instead, I just acknowledged, just absorbed the high-life of the wealthy upper-class.

But there _was_ one thing that was an exclusive sort of oddity between Blood Moon and Earth, "Well, yeah. I have one thing: why… why is it always perpetually dark in here? There's no sun or anything, either."

"Oh, that?" Tom returned with a cheeky smile, brimming with the excitement of lending his hand in his kingdom's history. "Well, it's because the entirety of Blood Moon is inside a cave! We settled here long ago, whereas the kingdoms like White Moon settled by the sea, and Full Moon settled in the mountaintops. We're big trade ports, each of us; Blood Moon is best for its exports in obsidian, and obsidian's like the precious metals you have up on Earth. New Moon's gotten the better of all of us, though; at least, I think so. They're entirely generated by geothermal energy."

I smiled, not only fascinated by Tom's world surrounding him, but the happiness it brought him to gush out his vast knowledge of his surroundings. "Why's that?"

"Because they're up on a volcano. I think it's one of the coolest things. You'd think that White Moon being by a sea of flowing lava would be able to harvest it more, but I guess not, considering they're _next_ to it, and not under it."

"So this really is just one big cave… That's why it's… Wow…" I marveled, speechless. I drank in the sights and sounds; behind us, I realized then that it was the castle itself that gave its kingdom such a bright light, and on the high-rising walls of the kingdom, there were several watchtowers holding large beacons of fire, allowing light over the mid- to outer-regions of the kingdom.

Tom squeezed my hand in his, a certain happiness overflowing him that made him perpetually smile; initially, I'd thought that it was because he had the chance to explain his vast historic knowledge of his kingdoms. I was wrong; albeit, he did seem to enjoy talking history, he just seemed overall happy to just be _out_ of that castle, his adrenaline washing out through his tapping feet and bouncing movements. And, of course, that pointy smile of his. "Mm-hm. That's exactly right; anything else you wanna ask about?"

Now, I had another comment to make note of. "Aren't you worried people are gonna see you?" I asked.

"No, not really; the Prince Tom they know of is always dressed in either royal garb or suits. The only people out there that know about the real me are my exes and my friends, and even then I don't really get to be myself around them. Those kinds of people… they always hold the whole 'prince' aspect at the back of their head, and although they try to put that aside, I always do kinda see that affecting the way they talk to me or address me. The real me is this here," He addressed his torn-up red shirt with the scratchy pentagram, his brown pants with their similarly-torn edges, his yellow boots, spiked belt, cuffs on his wrists. "This doesn't really scream 'prince' to you, does it?"

"Definitely not."

"So there you go. It helps me blend in a little better. Although, I have to admit, the tattoos around my eyes are more difficult to hide away. But usually when I come out in the nighttime, it's harder for people to notice."

"Wait… why are your eyes an issue?"

"It's a royal thing. Every crowned heir or heiress has to get them; so, if I ever had any siblings, they wouldn't have gotten those tattoos, but since I'm next in line for the throne, I get them. Like Amelia – the host we had – she didn't have them. It's a pretty indicative thing. It's probably also why the host had recognized me so fast, if he didn't already know how I looked." He shrugged. "But even if people do see me and recognize me as royalty, it's not like they go ahead and rat me out for it. They'll ask, sure, but nobody's ever dragged me back home."

I grimaced, the idea worrying me. Now, of course, had Tom been relatively unnoticeable, I would have been more at ease, but the fact that the heir to the Blood Moon throne is seen doing reckless actions like sneaking out, not only did it put his safety at risk, but also his family's reputation. "Aren't you… worried how this is gonna affect your mom and dad?"

"What, people asking?"

"Yeah… like, how are they gonna react knowing the royal prince is sneaking out for some night life?"

"I don't… really think they judge me that badly, Marco; they're usually only worried about my anger, not me having fun. I'd think that's, like, a more viable and acceptable action to them. But I know what you mean… Either way, I don't let it get to me much. I haven't gotten in trouble, nobody's ratted me out, so no harm, no foul, right?"

"I…" I hesitated. "No…? There _is_ a potential harm in all of this stuff, Tom! I'm… just worried, okay?"

"I understand. But I still just wanna take you out for dessert, that's all. Okay?" He asked in a gentle tone.

I heaved a sigh. "Okay…"

As we continued to move, the obsidian streets began to be replaced with cobblestones; we'd arrived into what Tom told me was the middle-class districts with the triangular buildings and small shops. It reminded me a little of France in that way. It had actually taken us quite the while to get there, seeing as how Tom's coach was obviously faster than our feet. We'd passed the time by talking about trees, I think is how it started, when I'd asked how trees grew around here. "Well, just because we're in Hell doesn't mean that there isn't fertile soil. Caves are actually a great way to incubate plants since they have all the good stuff here; we have the soil and the soot and the fire." He'd told me. I had to assume that the heat of the fire is what substituted the light of the sun, but even that didn't sit right with me. Seeing as how people ate rocks and slime around here, I guess I had to just let that sleeping dog lie.

I felt a lot more comfortable once we'd moved into the middle-class streets. The simpler buildings, and the little shops in joint brick buildings with the steel seats outside and the umbrellas gave the ice cream shops, the pizza parlors, eateries a very homey feeling to them. It felt much more comfortable than the uptight feeling of the upper-class district. "Oh… this is much better." I sighed in a breath of relief. "Everything looks so… cute."

"And you wanna know the best part?"

"What?"

"There's some _great_ places around here that actually serve Earth food. Like how you have specialty restaurants up on Earth that have like Italian-specific food. Some places here specialize in food from all over the different dimensions. I know a few Earth ones myself." He grinned.

"Really?"

"Yeah! Now, it might not be as authentic as your Earth food, but… heck, it won't kill you, right?"

And, I could live with that. "What kind of places are they?"

"I know for sure there's an ice cream place. I also think there's a bakery, but I'm not too sure if they do dessert foods."

"I think I'll go for the ice cream." I smiled. I definitely could've gone for mint chocolate chip then.

"Well that shop, I can tell you, is that little one right out there." He pointed over to one of those joint brick buildings with the steel chairs out in front. And as we entered, there was a young man behind the counter. His eyes were a very bright blue, his hair a pale blond, looking no older than sixteen. He reminded me a little of Star. "How's it going, Reveille?

"Tom, nice to see you again." He spoke in a small voice, but it was no less happy. "You brought a friend?"

"A date. An Earthling date, so I figured this place was best for his tastes."

"Well, we're the best Hell has to offer for Earth dairy treats." He smiled.

"Oh, intro. Reveille, this is Marco. I already told you he's from Earth. Marco, this is Reveille, one of my classmates, and he's actually from Mewni."

"Mewni?" I finally chirped. "Then why'd you move down here specializing in Earth dessert?"

"Well," He shrugged, his voice seeming nervous, though really, I suppose it was because it was just so small. "My mom figured it'd be best to bring a cold treat down to a hot place like this. And she always liked Earth ice cream, ever since we got lost there on our way back from an excursion. So she moved us down here. I don't mind it much. I like ice cream, too. So, what'll it be today?"

"I definitely want mint chocolate chip." I piped up.

"And I really wanted to try that cake batter one right there." Tom pointed through the clear plastic screen to the ice cream tub labeled just so.

"Yeah, that'd be it. I'll go whip it up right for you." Reveille went to this screen and gave us each a double-scoop cone, and Tom quickly paid the bill.

"Thanks again, man." Tom thanked him, giving him a small tip. "You wanna eat it here?"

I mulled it around for just a moment, then shook my head. "No," I decided. "We already have a lot of ground to cover to get back to your castle; we'll have plenty of time to eat it then."

"Alright," He waved to Reveille. "See you Monday, Rev."

"You too,"

After we exited, I noticed the fires that lit around the castle were beginning to be dimmed by servants, causing a nominal amount of darkness to come over the land. The outer-kingdom beacons, too, were being snuffed down to a low kindle. The now-tamed fires gave the streets around us a much more night-like feeling, albeit the daytime didn't necessarily feel like daytime at all. As the fires began to go down, I also noticed certain people immediately taking note and beginning to move back to their homes. Those who were younger went back to their parents, parted from their friends, the word 'curfew' on their lips.

I'd made it through a few licks of my ice cream before I knitted my eyebrows at the strange actions. It was almost automatic, the way these younger people were moving back to their residencies. "Tom," I tugged on the edge of his shirt sleeve.

His third eye addressed me as his other two eyes attempted to keep track of a dribbling drop of ice cream rolling down his lip. "Hm?"

"Why's everyone leaving…?"

"Leaving?" Tom's expression changed then; his three eyes snapped up to the watchtowers surrounding him, small and cautious, his jaw tightened and pronounced. "They're dimming the lights…"

I studied his expression with a note of trepidation. "Is… that a bad thing?"

"Yeah, it is. Well – not in itself; see, the dimming of the lights signifies a sense of nighttime around here, so the kids are going home to make curfew."

"Curfew?" I asked tentatively.

"Every kid under the age of eighteen has a kingdom-wide curfew."

"Wow." I murmured. "Your mom's _that_ super-cautious of you that he'd put a curfew for _every_ kid?" Was Tom really that scared to get in trouble? Before, he wrote it off like it was this little thing.

"Well, no… It wasn't for me, and it wasn't because of my mom. See, in Blood Moon, some scary shit's been happening." He took my hand tightly and began to move at a faster pace than before.

I felt a lump form in my throat, but decided to ask anyway. "Scary stuff…?"

"Yeah. Um… recently, some kids have gone missing around here."

The lump dropped hard down into my stomach, taking all the wind I had in my lungs with me. "Missing…?" We were still so far from the castle.

"Kidnapped, they think. There's been this interdimensional group of traffickers, known only by the moniker 'The Marauders.' It's apparently one of the biggest ones in the multiverse, spanning clients that reach the ends of the galaxy, victims that… come from all over. And considering the low crime rate in Blood Moon, my dad could conclude the only ones capable of taking so many kids while not being found… is _them_. So he imposed the curfew to try and keep the kids safe." I didn't quite know what to say, only able to make faint noises that died in my throat, hoarse and wheezy. "Hey, look Marco, it'll be okay; we just need to make it back to the castle and we'll be okay."

"But…" I started, unable to finish. Tom continued to move quickly through the district, blurry buildings moving past us. I wasn't aware of how fast we were moving, or even where we were going; I could only focus on these 'Marauders.' If they were, indeed, a real and interdimensional band of traffickers, could it mean they were present on Earth? I found myself desperately trying to cling to a different set of thoughts, something I could open my throat to. "I really don't wanna spill my ice cream." I found myself murmuring.

"You won't spill your ice cream, Marco; we're almost there." Tom reassured, pointing my attention to the gates now growing before us. He finally settled down, and the air rushed back to my face and lungs; I wasn't sure how fast we were moving _while_ we were moving, but I quickly realized that we'd been _moving quickly_. I could just barely feel the whiplash missing me. And no, surprisingly, my ice cream didn't whip back to reality and fall down onto the ground. It just… slid a little. I took a lick of it with Tom at the edge of the gate. We couldn't move through till we finished them up, and Tom, of course, finished first. He ate through his hurriedly and licked up his fingers before the saliva superheated and evaporated as his hands, once again, began glowing a thick red. I took a munch of the cone-and-cream mixture as I moved through the yellow-hot bars that he pried open. I asked him if he enjoyed his ice cream, and he told me he did. I wondered if he really did or not.

Tom didn't really care much for the cameras anymore, not that it mattered. I munched down the last of my cone, and only after the loud crunching swallowed down my throat was I able to hear the thick tapping of a shoe.

Brian stood before the castle door, arms crossed, and with a look of disappointment. Not anger or frustration or resentment. Just disappointment. "Tom," He started in a serious tone.

Tom's eyes widened, his ears drawing back. "Oh… hey, Brian…" He sincerely looked upset. I guess this was the first time he was ever caught. "I… I don't even know what to say; you caught me in the act."

"It's not even _that_ I'm worried about, Tom! I'm not worried about you becoming a menace on the streets; I'm worried about menaces harming _you_ on the streets. You or Marco! I immediately checked your room when the lights dimmed, and you weren't there; you could've –"

"Gone missing, I know." Tom responded in a defeated voice. "I'm sorry, Brian." He apologized sincerely.

Brian sighed, his voice ever gentle. "Look, I won't tell your parents, but please, until we find The Marauders and have them securely captured, I don't want your safety compromised. I don't want you to get hurt – or worse.

Tom's ears drew back further still. I squeezed his hand gently for reassurance. "I… I'm sorry, Brian."

"I accept your apology, Tom; and might I say, I'm proud that you manifested this negative situation into a reflective one."

"You're welcome." He gave a sly grin. "But you'd better believe that once that whole Marauder situation is handled, I'm _gone_."

Brian nodded, unfazed by his comment. "And also, I found your ankle bracelet. How did you get it off?"

"It wasn't hard." He said it like it was a simple thing.

"I see. Well, your mom and dad never liked you wearing it anyway, so maybe we can take it off for the while; at least, while The Marauders will deter you from sneaking around."

"Sneaking _out_ , Brian." Tom corrected quickly, a cheeky smile on his face. His level of comfort around Brian was obvious, and honestly, I was glad there was actually someone that he could just act naturally around. "I have no qualms sneaking around the house."

"I see, I see. Well, try not to scare anyone, alright? Now Marco,"

I quickly looked up to him. "Yes?"

"We prepared a room for you, so I'll be glad to bring you to it; the servants already put your stuff in there."

I nodded. "Thank you." And as we swung around a few corners to get there, I thanked him again.

"No problem." Brian smiled, then exited, leaving Tom and I alone again.

Tom had a light blush of embarrassment over his cheeks, his ears still back slightly. "Well… heh… Did you have fun?"

I smiled and nodded, sitting down on the side of the bed. "Yeah, I had fun."

"I'm glad. And… I'm sorry it was filled with all of these stupid ups and downs, y'know? I didn't intend it."

"Well, I didn't mind it." And that was the truth.

"I just hope next time that it'll… relax a little, y'know? We can just talk about stupid things before it… it gets all mushy." He scratched the back of his head. Then he hesitated. "Oh, and the little… the… the… yeah. _That_. You know what I'm talking about."

I knit my eyebrows. "The sneaking out?"

"No, not that. The… incident with the…" He grimaced, his flush deepening. "The 'leaving you' thing. I'm so sorry about that; I was… I was _so_ dumb."

I mimicked his grimace. "Well, yeah. You were; I'll admit that. But Star was, too, and it's over now."

"Yeah… Hey, can we just… pretend that never happened?"

I nodded. "Ab-so-lutely." Because, honestly, there would be nothing I would've rather done than just forget that little… blip in the system. The little folly, the big mistake.

"So… what're your thoughts?" He brought his hands together, the thumbs of which twiddled around each-other; his position was rather nervous and withdrawn then. "Would you… wanna do this again?"

"Well…" How could I put it? "No, not _this_. _This_ was… fast… and weird. And, although it was really lovely, it was… too much too quickly, y'know? But _us_ … I'd be more than happy to do us again. In a quieter setting. In a _slower_ setting."

He gave a wistful smile. "You don't understand how completely I agree with that. And it had nothing to do with us, right?"

"No, not at all."

"It was… circumstance, really. That we brought up your… proclaimed 'loser' status and my dead mom. We never intended it to open up like a can of worms. And then with Star…"

I put a hand on his arm before his brow furrowed too deep. "It's been… a mess, Tom, but I liked it. And I'd love to tour around the kingdom with you tomorrow. But for right now, I have to shower, okay? And then I think I'll go to sleep. Do you guys use water?"

"Yeah, we do, actually. We use it to drink with, too. But as for like, restaurants, they usually don't serve it."

I decided not to question why. This place was already weird as it was. "Okay. Well… Goodnight, Tom."

Tom gave a gentle smile, then leaned in and kissed my mole. You would think I would've anticipated it by now, but I didn't; it still brought a cherry blush across my nose and cheeks. "Night, Marco."

I smiled as he closed the door slowly, to catch an inch of me until he couldn't anymore, smiled still more as he left. Today was only five hours long. Five hours of Hell, and still there was more to do tomorrow. But now, I was finally alone without the prospect of tears, without sadness. Just… a soft smile, and stinky clothes. I threw them off quickly, lay there on the cold bed with my hot skin flush against it.

I undid my binder next.


	11. Chapter 11: Round and Round

**Chapter 11: Round and Round**

* * *

They laughed at us behind their masks; whispering – incessant whispering – swallowed the air around us and into their haughty lungs. Nobody could breathe, and yet they all took their precious gulps of air.

There was none left for me.

And yet still, we danced, hands together, except when they were not, drinking in the sights and smells that I tried desperately to forget. And still they whispered around us, still laughed at me, at _me_.

But even as they laughed, still I danced, felt his warm hands in mine, but now they were bitterly cold, shocking goosebumps across my hands, my neck.

I couldn't breathe. He told me to relax, but I couldn't breathe. All of the expectations, all of the eyes, all of the laughter, the judgments, the disappointment. I would fail; I was bound to fail. The room was dark and slanted, their laughter like ghosts, whispers like screams.

I would lose my balance. Who could dance in a room like this?

I was twirled, and I was dipped, and I was pirouetted. God, there was so much air, and none of it was mine. My throat was closed off – a prison, but not a prison; even those have bars – a locked and cold elevator, my hands prying at my neck just to open up its clutched passageways to _breathe_. But still I danced.

A smile tickled his lips and he asked, "What are you doing, silly?" Like it was a silly thing at all. And he was behind me now, whispering it into my ear, "What are you doing, silly?" And his whisper screamed.

But I wasn't afraid; I trusted him. His scream was not startling, his whisper was something to hold dear. It was intimate, meant only for me. His smile, his gaze, mine, all mine, but I couldn't gulp it down. I couldn't satisfy him; I would never be able to satisfy him.

And he dipped me again, his smile sly, his smile sincere. My eyes gazed around to the masked faces, hands over their lips, laughing, laughing a fit. They looked at me and quickly turned their heads to whisper to one another, their gazes darting to me and to the other faces once again, just to judge me.

He drank in my scent from behind, his nose pressed against my neck as he gave a long whiff. My hands were held out to the side by his, holding them in a tight vice-grip. I tried to tug against them, to claw open the steel doors of this elevator I held in my throat, but I couldn't. He wouldn't let me. Instead, he chuckled, his breath cold where it was once ghosting hot. "Don't struggle so much; it'll be okay. It'll be just fine." He took a tentative lick across my neck, tongue darting out over his lips thereafter. Then a prick, and a puncture. My skin crawled around the two wounds – wounds inflicted by him, deep and sharp, but I could not cry out. And as the blood dribbled down, the world froze. The screaming silence dissipated, the gazes disappeared. And through these puncture wounds, I was free.

I could breathe again.

* * *

Except… that I couldn't.

I woke with a start, gasping for air, and for a moment, I couldn't tell where I was, or even _who_ I was – though this later confusion was only very briefly. I saw only the darkness surrounding me, and the incandescent bubbles of lava pooling. The bed was not my own, nor was my ceiling ever that high, and my dressers never faced to the left. I was in Hell, I realized far later than acceptable, in Tom's castle. I clutched my undershirt over where my heart lay underneath, recoiling against each painful pump it thrust out like a jackhammer, shattering the concrete in my veins and created all sorts of painful fragments to lacerate and tear.

I was already beginning to break.

I was a machine falling into disrepair, a building crumbling down. I clenched back my teeth of glass as my jaw tightened, and my jaw began to crack into diamonds. My body already solidifying till it was my joints would crackle and snap when I moved. I rolled out of bed, shattered onto the floor like a fine china. It took every ounce of my will to move against my failing body – my body which only wanted to fold up, rock in a corner in this catatonic state, for the world to melt away in a haze of vice-gripped hair and preserve what little fragments of me I could scoop together. The world was so unfamiliar, so unreal. The room was paper now, being torn around the edges like the first steps of paper mâché.

God, I just wanted to go _home_ …! I wanted to go back to comfort, to my mom, to her arms, hushing me while I shook myself from flesh and bone. I wanted papa to be there to put me back together after I was just a mess of faulty parts, like he always would with his oil-stained hands from my disrepair. I wanted him to sing to me, strum the chords of his notes humming his gentle tunes until my tremors became waves along a puddle. I wanted mom to tell me everything was gonna be alright, even if her voice was underwater, I would still make out her gentle tone, her gentler strokes against my back and through my hair.

I wanted Alfonzo and Ferguson. I wanted to be back against my locker with them at each side. I wanted to be against Ferguson's chest, clinging to him while my fingers were falling down. I wanted their awkward frowns when they didn't know what to do, and all they wanted to do was _help me, goddamn it_.

I wanted help! I wanted _help_! I wanted somebody's arms, someone's soothing voice. Someone to hold my disheveled self, my fragments. I wanted _someone_ , _anyone_. I wanted Tom. I wanted _Tom_. I _needed_ Tom.

Pieces of me were already left on the bed, parts shattered when I hit the floor. I was dragging shards across the ground as I managed to open the doors as my fingers fell apart. I was _breaking_. The edges of my eyes were failing. My heart was destroying me.

I emptied myself out onto the hallway, looked around through cracked eyes, and I saw nothing. I saw an unfamiliar nothing. I saw no Tom, nor servants. I saw nothing. I clutched my shirt, my chest crunching my skin to dust. I sunk, squatted on the floor, my hand gripping the windowsill until it would break away. Tears fell down my face like glass.

Nothing could save me. I was going to die. My heart would crumble away to nothing, _nothing_.

 _It's nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing to worry about. Nothing. It's all just nothing. It's all in your head, Marco. Nothing. Nothing. It's nothing; you're over-exaggerating, Marco. It's nothing. Nothing nothing nothing not -_


	12. Chapter 12: Autobiography

_I don't like giving you guys cliffhangers so_ … _here, have a quickly-updated chapter._

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Autobiography**

* * *

A… _wail_ woke me from my sleep. It probably woke _everyone_ up, honestly. It was low and loud and guttural, a desperate cry. And it was… most certainly Marco's.

My brain was processing my thoughts at exactly the speed you'd expect it to be when I'd just woken up. Slow. Just very, very slow. And although my worry was very up-to date, very current, the rest of my body was taking quite a lot longer to respond in an appropriate way. But eventually, my eyes adjusted and I mentally slapped myself awake. This was _Marco_ we were talking about here, dammit. I didn't care how little my body wanted to leave the bed, how many times I yawned. He was in _danger_. I couldn't even believe I needed to say this to myself.

My feet plodded along the hardwood floor, across to the end of the hall, and I swung open the door. Star had already gotten there first; but that's unsurprising, considering her room is right next door to his. She held in her arms his crumpled-up form, tears rolling down his face, low wails and incoherent blubbering spilling out his throat. I quickly moved to the bedside, sitting below it.

Twice. This was the second time that this had happened since we'd decided to be together, the first happening the very first night I'd dated him. But that day hadn't necessarily gone well, or even well at _all_. It was a day I'd rather soon wrap in a package and promptly shove into the deepest and darkest recesses of my mind; god, that day was just _embarrassing_.

He was there trembling violently like a leaf in a hurricane, his fingers constantly twitching, eyes muddied, constantly shifting left and right, left and right, left and right, unfocused to the world before him, and yet… focused to a different time, a different place that neither I nor Star could ever reach. "Marco…" I murmured, hovering a hand closely to him, not wanting to touch him until he acknowledged me fully; the last thing I wanted was to startle him, or make his situation worse; it was already bad as it was. My top eye flicked up to Star. "Has he said anything to you?"

"No," She answered sadly, shaking her head. I figured then that Marco had allowed her to hold him in his panic and desperation for another's touch; he was clinging to her nightgown tightly, and yet absently, still hyperventilating, still shaking. The Diazes entered shortly thereafter with a rushed disposition, with materials that I supposed that they used for him in this time of desperation: a stuffed bison, a glass of water, a blanket from what appeared to be his childhood, and chocolate.

"Marco," I started again, the edges of my fingertips stroking his leg like I would have his cheek, had I been on a higher level. He didn't so much as turn his head to me, his mind disconnected. "Marco, please… you can talk to us; it's okay. I know you're scared, but we're here now, okay?" I wasn't even sure if my voice reached him at all.

Mrs. Diaz sat beside him on the opposite end of Star, while Mr. Diaz sat beside me on the ground, setting the glass down along with him. His mother draped his small blanket with Samba de Amigo on it, then gently brought him to her chest, shushing him. And after a moment of his mother's gentle touch, the amber glow of his eyes returned, and he vaguely began to refocus the world around him.

He noticed me and his father first, his breath a choppy, wet mess, scattered between sniffles and gasps and hyperventilation. "Marco, hey…" I greeted gently, scooted up to be able to pet his knee.

He sniffled a few more times, took another deep gasp. "H-Hey…"

"You were scared, huh? Probably still are."

"Yea-ah…" He nestled himself closer to his mother's breast, and she stroked through his hair gently.

"That's alright; that's alright. Here then… How about we all just… take some deep breaths together, huh?" I offered, looking to Star and the Diazes. Star agreed, as did Mr. Diaz.

"How about it, baby?" His mother asked, "We'll just breathe a little, so you can breathe a little better."

Between his deep inhales, he nodded, quietly desperate for it all to be over, as we all wished. Collectively, we all took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled it slowly. And as we repeated this several times more, Marco's choppy and anguished breaths became less bumpy, his short gasps more elongated and smooth. He was finally able to settle down, silent tears rolling from a neutral face that appeared unaware of them. He held his mother tightly in a sort of thanks, then finally pulled away.

I and Mr. Diaz resettled onto the bed, and I moved to wipe the tears from his eyes with my thumbs. "You feeling any better now?"

"Yeah… Yeah, a little." He murmured, his voice small and weak from the exhaustion of sleeplessness and fatigue.

"Here, hijo, have some water before you get a headache." His father offered to him the glass of water, and Marco drank down a little bit before he set it down on the dresser next to him. "And here's Muffin." He offered next the little brown stuffed bison.

Marco took it lovingly – like how I would with Scamp – and held it tightly. "Thank you guys…" He gave a small smile, pushing Muffin to his cheek and rocking it slowly.

"Tom," Mrs. Diaz touched my shoulder, "Is it alright if you stay the night here in Marco's room?"

I nodded, petting his back gently. "Of course."

And after a moment of silence between us all, his parents rose. "Here, Marco, we're gonna leave the chocolate next to the water there in case you need it." His mother touched his shoulder reassuringly. "Is that okay?"

Marco nodded a thin nod. "I should be fine… And if I'm not, I'll have Tom here."

"Star," I asked, "Are you gonna stay here with us?"

She furrowed her brow, the air of concern around her not necessarily conjured up at the idea of being left out, but at the idea of being left out while Marco was still frail. "You… gonna be okay here with just you and Tom, Marco?"

He nodded another thin nod. "I think I'll be okay, yeah; thank you, though."

She trusted his word, moving to hug him tightly. "Okay. Just… try and get a good night's rest, okay?"

"I promise." He gave another sniffle. "Thank you again, Star… you came here so quickly; I don't know _what_ I would've done if no-one came… So I thank you for that."

"Oh, psht, Marco! It was nothing." She sat down beside him, giving a rough bounce to the bed. "So… how did this one happen?"

"I had another nightmare…" He murmured, hoping his quick glance to me would go unnoticed.

But I did notice, and I looked to the floor in exchange. "The last one that was _that_ bad was… about me, wasn't it?"

"Yeah… Well, about the ball. But… I don't think it was about you this time, Tom."

"Then what was it about?"

Marco furrowed his eyebrows, gave a scowl. "I… I don't remember. I only remember how I felt."

"So…" She interrupted once more in a quiet tone. "Then it's the nightmare that made you scream?"

"I mean… yeah, I guess so." He stated it as more of a question than anything. "I just… remember, in the dream, that I felt so scared that I couldn't breathe, and so when I woke up, I couldn't breathe. I felt, like… apprehension, like someone was about to kill me, and when I woke up, I just screamed for dear life because I didn't… y'know, wanna _die_. And then I started panicking… and then all this happened, and… I'm sorry."

"Oh, baby," I slunk my arms around his waist and pulled him close to my chest. "You don't have to apologize for that; you couldn't control it if you tried, and that's nothing you should feel sorry for."

"But I woke you all up…"

"I mean, I think I speak for all of us when I say that I'd much, _much_ rather be woken up than you having to fight this all on your own." Star chirped up in a bubbly agreement.

"Well…" He mulled it over for quite a while, but soon the guilt faded from his features. "Okay then. Thank you guys."

"No problem, Marco! We're friends, remember? We all love you and don't ever wanna see you so sad, okay? Now, I gotta get back to bed, but just remember you can talk to anyone about anything that ever troubles you, okay?"

"Anything…" He murmured in a muted tone. "Alright; I'll keep that in mind."

Star smiled, not quite wanting to get up, but also, not quite sure of what note she was ready to leave on. She lingered for quite a bit as the silence grew around us all, and it was only after it became _unbearably_ awkward that she got up and dusted herself off. "Night, guys."

So yes, in a sort of way, Star and I were back on good terms. Now, initially, we'd put aside our hatred for one-another for Marco's sake, but after a while – and you know how it goes – we began to understand that we weren't all of what we cracked each-other up to be; there was a part of each of us that was… not a bastard nor a bitch, not a demon nor a menace. We were just… misunderstood in each-other's eyes.

After she left, Marco lingered, looking down, lost in thought. He seemed to be in a sort of internal conflict, his eyebrows scrunching every now and then, his expression that of worry. I pet through his hair. "What's on your mind?" I cooed to him gently, kissing the top of his head.

"I…" He hesitated once more. "I wanted to share something with you and Star. Not right now, but… in the morning; right now, I just wanna sleep." He moved out from under me, and I pouted as settled into bed, giving space for me to lay down as well. "You can hug me in bed at any moment you want, y'know." But I sat there, looking like a child who lost his mother at a store, pouting at him until the expression sunk in. He gave a scoff and patted the section of bedding next to him. I finally laid down next to him, felt his arm wrap around till my opposite shoulder. And I was finally satisfied. "Night, Tom."

I kissed his forehead. "Goodnight, Marco."

* * *

Morning came with a groan. Marco's groan, to be exact, low and drawling like a zombie.

"Morning, I'd greeted him with a gentle kiss to his forehead once again; I'd gotten into the habit of making this particular kiss my hello and goodbye, and he was almost expectant of it by now. Except, when it was a good morning kiss, it was an indication that he should probably wake up. So he'd groan, groan without even opening his eyes, without even moving. And when I'd tell him, "Come on, Marco, you should get up." His groans would get more irritated, and sometimes he'd swat at me, like he did that morning. Every time I tried to touch him to either drag him up or just to pet his face, he'd swat at my hands and my face like it was all a slap-fight. I gave a small chuckle and shook my head. "Your mom's making eggs and bacon this morning; you don't want it to be cold, do you?"

"Five more minutes…" He murmured, his lips hardly opening.

" _Marco_ …"

"Two more… minutes…"

"Then two minutes will be two hours."

"Don't care…"

"And then it'll be 3 PM."

That's what got him to finally jolt up. "It's one o'clock?!" I gave a chuckle as he looked to the clock on the dresser, seeing that it was only eleven. I was honestly surprised he was able to do even the simplest math with his mind that tired. He frowned at me. "I hate you."

I laughed harder. His hair was disheveled in front of his face, eyes droopy with dark circles, mouth dry, eyes crusted, retainer showing all of his frothy saliva. He looked perfect. "Well, at least you got up, right?"

And he promptly flopped right back down into the pillow, throwing the blanket over his whole body. "Nope."

"Marco, you told me you wanted to tell me something last night."

"Later…" He groaned. "I have, like, twelve _hours_ to tell you guys…"

I waggled my finger. "Ah-ah-ah; you said tomorrow _morning_ , and that means you only have one hour to–!" A pillow smacked into my face.

"Shut up with your… _technicalities_. Jeez, Tom, can't a guy just sleep?"

"Not if he's gonna oversleep, no."

" _Buh_ …" He finally threw off his blanket, flinging it onto me. I quickly moved to fold it up as he moaned again, finally rolling out of bed. He sat down on the floor, letting himself bathe in the light leaking in from his window, then finally got up, only to sit down on the bed again as I folded the covers onto the foot of it. "Did you get to brush your teeth?"

I shook my head. "No; I was waiting for you, lazy bones." I sat down behind him and gently massaged his shoulders. "You ready to get up while there's still morning?"

He heaved a heavy sigh. " _Fine_." He rose, finally moving towards the bathroom across the hall. I quickly followed after him. His procedure for brushing was a near-replica for his getting-out-of-bed routine: it was slow and sloppy with languid movements and lidded eyes. I turned my sink's water to the coldest setting, then took a dab of it and pressed it over Marco's eyes. This usually did the trick to wake him up, as it did today. What it also did was deliver a squeal and a slap to my face. But hey, at least it worked. "Tom!" He screeched. "Why do you have to do this _every time_ you sleep at my place?!"

"Because I seriously question how you get up any other day that I'm not here."

"I usually don't…" He murmured, not showing a hint of shame in his face nor tone. "Not unless I have school, or something to do."

"But you were gonna spend time with me, weren't you? Me, and Star, and your friends? Plus there's that thing that you promised you'd tell Star and I this morning."

He spat out the slurry of saliva and toothpaste in the sink. "I will, I will. I still need to get changed and have breakfast first; then afterward, we'll talk about it in my room. But for right now, I just need to get changed, and so do you." He began to shove me out of the bathroom. "So you go and change and I'll meet you downstairs." And he waited there, his head poking out the door, until he could see me turning the corner to leave. I heard him gently lock the door to his room thereafter.

Damn, he was so cute.

I changed into a simple gray sleeveless hoodie and black sweats, deciding that I'd meet Marco downstairs after he changed himself. I honestly… hadn't expected Alfonzo and Ferguson to be downstairs, too. Breakfast consisted of eggs and garlic bread and bacon on a large platter. The two of them and Star were taking generously from the plates, each bite of garlic bread like a new flavor Star discovered, her face melted into a delight, a joy like she never experienced before.

I guess some people are just easier to please than others.

"Hey… Fonz. Ferg. What're you guys doing here?"

Alfonzo swallowed down a tooth-torn chunk of bacon. "Marco said for us to come over last night for twelve o'clock."

"Just to hang out?"

"Yeah. Something like that. So we came over a little early and Mrs. Diaz had breakfast for us."

I sat down beside them. Honestly, this was a normal thing, for the two to show up unannounced. I didn't mind, honestly; I did the same thing, except the two boys would have to knock on the door. I could just appear whenever I wanted, making me a much bigger pest. Marco hurried downstairs, slipping his jacket onto him as he came down, then settled into the last of the kitchen chairs. "Morning guys; glad you could make it."

"Like you weren't about to." My voice was swallowed into the thick pores of the bread.

But not enough; I felt him jab my shoulder. "Well I _did_ get up, didn't I? Even if it did take a lot of encouragement."

Ferguson chuckled. "Classic Marco."

"What do you mean, 'Classic Marco'?"

"How you always take five years to get up." Star chimed in.

Marco only rolled his eyes, the four-against-one odds stacking up against him. "Fine." He finally admitted between a defeated bite of bacon.

Breakfast ended with some pleasant coffee, not too overbearing on the palette, not too weak to be unenjoyable. We moved thereafter to Marco's room upstairs, and he settled on his bedside, his two best friends flanking him. Star and I decided to sit on the floor below him.

He started with a sigh. "Okay, well… yesterday, Star said that I could tell anything to anyone when it bothers me, right?"

"Right!" Star reassured.

"So… This is something that's bothered me for a while, because I've been holding out on you guys. Now, granted, I've only known Star for four months, and Tom, around three-ish. Alfonzo and Ferguson, well… they know what I'm about to tell you, so that's why they're here. Just… to kinda make it more comfortable to say."

I knit my eyebrows, and both Star and I looking to each-other with concern. "Is it anything… dangerous?" I asked cautiously.

"Oh no, no… nothing like that. I'm not gonna die or anything." He scratched the back of his head. "It's just that… I've never told you guys… about _me_. Okay you guys _know_ me – I do karate, and go to high school and love sushi – but you don't know my… _history_. My autobiography, I guess. Everything that's happened to me for fourteen years."

Now it was Star's turn to knit her eyebrows. "Huh… when I think about it, you never did tell me what you were like as a _little_ _baby boo-boo_." She babbled her last words out, pinching Marco's leg where she couldn't pinch his cheek.

He recoiled. "Ow, Star!" He hissed, not angry, but certainly sore. Star gave her cutest apology, which didn't do much in the way of changing Marco's attitude, but since he was already known for being forgiving, he forgave her promptly. He continued, "Well, in any case… I figured I should just go ahead and tell you guys now, whether you guys might hate me for it for the rest of my life…" He took a deep sigh. "I'm trans. So… yeah. Y'know…"

Star looked to him with a confused expression, as did I. But obviously, the matter was very heavy and serious to him, if his initial precaution was that we'd _hate_ him. I felt awful having to ask, "What… does that mean?"

Now he looked to us with a matched sort of bewilderment. "You don't know…?"

"Never heard of it." Star replied.

"I…" He started, but he seemed to be at as much of a loss as the two of us. He shifted in his bed a little. "This is honestly… not what I was expecting…"

"So then… what _were_ you expecting?"

Marco's voice went dry. "For you guys to leave me…"

His words were like a hot iron clamped over my heart. "What?! Why would we ever?!" Star cried. What in the hell was 'trans' that he'd think we'd up and _leave_ him so immediately? What had being trans done in his past that made others leave?! I, obviously, didn't want to minimize his fear nor his pain, so I could only imagine it had come from a place of experience, and that made me feel all the worse.

"Marco," I attempted to calm myself down – not from anger, but shock – trying to speak reasonably, "Whoever you were in the past… it isn't who you are now. Whatever you did then, we won't hate you for it now, _especially_ not leave you. I promise." I looked to Star, and she nodded. " _We_ promise."

He took a deep inhale, then exhaled it slowly, looking embarrassed. "Well… it's funny that you mention that, because… whoever I was in the past was… actually a girl."

A long pause of silence swept into the room, and… my mind went blank. "A… A girl?" I found myself repeating, just to wrap my lips around the idea before my head could catch up.

"Yeah… that's… kinda what trans means. It means that, for all intents and purposes, I was born a girl."

Star gasped in an excited breath. " _Marco_! Does that mean you're a _girl_? And when we went to St. Olga's –"

"Star." Marco started, clear and sharp, sharper than any tone he's ever taken on before. "It _doesn't_ mean that I'm a girl. I'm not. Can I… explain to you guys, since both of you don't know anything?"

She quieted down to an apology on her face. "Okay…"

"But don't' be upset; it's fine." I wanted to go up to him, to hold him and have him rest his head on me. The distress in his features was obvious, as was the discomfort. I didn't want to tell him to stop, however, because I knew that the discomfort would only last as long as we didn't understand, and we very much _did not_ understand _anything_ of what he was even talking about. So the only thing I could do was give him my undivided attention.

"Well… here we go…" Marco took a deep breath. "When I was born, the doctors decided to call me a girl, because I guess that's what fit best with… well, the way they decide if you're a girl or boy. So they looked down there after I was born and figured, 'hey, this looks girl enough to me.' So when I went back to my mom and dad after getting cleaned up and stuff, I was in a pink towel and a pink cap and they said 'congratulations! It's a girl!' so my mom and dad just took it the way that the doctors wanted them to. In reality, the doctors use a chart to measure up a newborn's genitals." He saw Star make a mock gag. "Yeah, I know; we have to talk about _that_ stuff. And if a certain part of a baby's, well, _parts_ was too small, they'd be considered a girl. If it's too big, it's a boy. But then… there's kids like me. I was born… _a little_ on the small side, but I was in that middle zone that was the 'purple' zone, the no-zone. They didn't know what to do with me. But since I was born _a little_ on the small side – the pink side, the girl side – that's… where they put me.

"Now… a lot of people – well, a lot of _humans_ I guess, since Mewnians and demons aren't caught up on that sort of business, I guess – consider it to be that I was… 'born in the wrong body,' they call it. But that was never the case; at least, _I_ never felt like that; I don't know how it is for other people. I think I was born right, born… _correctly_. Like, when I was delivered by my mom and they wrapped me up the first time – right there, there was nothing wrong. But it was everything after that – the fact that _they_ decided who I was before I was who _I_ could say I was – _that_ was wrong. I was born… Rosalita Sofia Diaz, and a lot of people told me that I was the prettiest girl they'd ever seen, and I _hated_ it. And… the reason I say that I wasn't 'born in the wrong body' is exactly because… when I was only like two, or three, when people would say 'miss' or 'little girl' or 'ma'am,' I hated it. I threw more tantrums than you could imagine just saying 'I'm a boy! I'm a boy! You don't know what you're talking about!' " He shook his head, a small smile on his face from the memories of when he was young. "Even as little as three years old, I told everyone that I was a boy. How could I be in the wrong body like that? I was three; I didn't even know there was such a thing as a _wrong_ body; there was only _my_ body. And a lot of people thought it was because I hung around boys – though, honestly, I didn't hang around a lot of them. And I didn't mind dresses, didn't mind dolls, but I liked Legos and GI Joes, and… and greens and browns and camo, but the fact that my mom and dad didn't _let_ me do that _because_ I was a girl, I didn't like that. Eventually, I did get sick of dresses, because I was never allowed to wear pants; it's like making you eat spaghetti till you hate it.

"This… ended up getting to its worst point when I was eight, when I beat up a kid for saying I hit like a girl, so I hit him with a dozen fists, hitting him like just a _girl_." And with that one statement alone – knowing that Marco was a badass that beat the shit out of some asshole kid for calling him names – I fell in love with him just _that_ much more. "So when time came back around to get my routine checkup, my mom and dad decided to bring it up to the doctor, to see if there was anything wrong with me. So they gave me this preliminary questionnaire, and after I did that, the doctor came back in and asked that I answer some more questions alone, without mom and dad's influence. And he just asked me questions about things I liked, and things I didn't. I answered them honestly, because I didn't think I should lie to him; he was my doctor, and I was eight. So, after I answered his questions, mom and dad came back in. And very quietly, my doctor said to them, 'I just want you to know that there is such a thing as transsexuality.' Just like that. And my mom and dad were very confused at first, but my doctor explained it that I was 'born in the wrong body,' even though I felt that was wrong, but it helped Mom and Dad to understand."

"So…" I interrupted for a minute. "That's what 'trans' means?"

"It…" He scratched the back of his head. Ferguson had a constant, slow rub up and down Marco's back for his comfort. "It means 'transgender,' because it's a nicer word to use, but older people and, I guess, professionals, use 'transsexual.' I guess, anyway. But Mom and Dad didn't… They never meant anything wrong whenever they'd put me in dresses, or called me 'Little Rosa.' They never meant it. They just… didn't understand – _couldn't_ , with what they knew then. So… I never blamed them. I especially don't, because, after he told them everything he had to, they sat down by me in the doctor's room and my mom asked 'is this really how you feel?' and I said 'yeah, of course,' because I always knew deep down it _was_ how I felt. And so then, they were… understanding; they said 'okay, what do we have to do?' and the doctor advised them to, basically, let me wear the clothes that I want, call me a 'he,' let me play with my Legos and my trains, but – and he said this was a very important – if I wanted to still wear dresses and play with dolls, not to restrict me from that, either.

"Basically, what had happened was… those doctors that first delivered me did it wrong. When they realized I was in that 'purple' area – that area between girl and boy – they shouldn't have done anything. They should've brought me to my mom and dad and said 'hey, we don't know what this baby is, so you guys should raise them gender-neutrally until they're about three years old. Then you go ahead and bring them back into the doctor to see what they think,' and they would've seen that I would call myself a boy. And that would've been that. But for eight years of my life I had to live with… being told, basically that my existence was wrong. It's like if I looked to you, Tom, and said 'hey, girl! How's it going?' "

"Then… I'd tell you, 'dude, I'm not a girl.' "

"But what if I said 'yes you are,' and everybody said 'yes you are'? What if we all started calling you – I don't know – Tammy instead, and kept calling you Tammy, and no matter what you said, we'd still call you Tammy and ma'am and princess and heiress? It's just like that." God, imagine that. I certainly did, imagining myself with little pigtails and dresses. I would've burnt them all to a crisp; That one little example gave such an apt idea to me, I could finally say I understood this whole 'transgender' business a little bit.

"Wow…" I went up to him – couldn't help it, really – and sat down beside him, bringing him to my chest. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"It's okay…" He murmured. Star plopped down next to them, but instead, sat down by Alfonzo, a space away from Marco. "Back to the story?"

"Oh yeah!" Star giggled, bouncing up and down with a childish wonder. To her, it was storytime – Marco's story, and I didn't mind, nor did he. This story wasn't a fiction, wasn't a joke, but knowing Star, fictions and biographies are all taken with the same level of excitement.

"So… basically, mom and dad did exactly what the doctor asked them to do, finally listened to me for once. The doctor had said that I might end up wanting to call myself something else, something other than Little Rosa or Rosalita. I decided on Marco. And of course, every now and then, Mom or Dad – Dad especially, because he's the one that called me Little Rosa – they would slip up and call me my previous name. But they'd apologize, immediately call me Marco afterwards, and that made them a whole lot different than the other people I ended up meeting in my life. I got to wear jeans, got to play in sports, but school was… still unforgiving. They still put my sex down as 'female,' still put me down in the yearbook as 'Rosalita Sofia.' Still did everything wrong. And elementary school was okay about it. The students called me what I wanted – what I _was_ called. They called me Marco; it was only the teachers that had an issue. And by then, I was in the third grade, so everyone had already established me as a girl. When it came time for middle school, I had my name legally changed and everything, so not many people knew about me. I ended up getting a big group of friends by the end of seventh grade, and sixth grade is where I met Alfonzo and Ferguson.

"But… it didn't last. By the end of eighth grade, people… found out about me. To this day, I still don't know how, but they did; out of my big group of fourteen friends, suddenly a dozen said I was a disgusting waste of space, unnatural, a lie. That I was just pretending to be a boy to sneak peeks of girls in the locker room – oh, it went on and on…" He sighed. "Only two of them stayed… I guess that's where the worst chunk of my anxiety started out – in that fear of people hating me, because people _did_ hate me, just for finding out that I didn't have as pretty a name as I did before. At first, my anxiety was just over this thing – that people would find out, and I needed to hide it. But it just ended up snowballing that even something like _dreams_ can make me freak out." Star and I frowned. Damn, humans really _did_ suck, didn't they? Not even being able to accept anything outside of what's 'normal' to them. "It's gotten to the point where, just three months ago, I was afraid of being disowned because my dad found out I was bi. I mean… he's seen me go from girl to boy; I hardly think that going from _liking_ girls to also liking boys would be as bad! But that's just… just how my mind works nowadays…" Another sigh.

"I got my first dose of hormones when I was thirteen, just a little bit after I hit puberty. You guys know what puberty is, right? Star, it's like the human version of Mewberty. Y'know? Estrogen, the female hormone, testosterone, the male?"

Surprisingly, she nodded. "It's estrogen that drives Mewberty, anyway. I got you, Marco!"

Well, nobody said that hormones worked the same way in humans as it did in Mewnians. Though, Marco lingered on that thought for a bit with a creeped-out expression. He finally made peace with his face before continuing, "That's what the doctor had recommended, since starting hormones before puberty could be… uncertain and possibly dangerous. So… I've been on T for a year now. The results are… okay. I mean, I can grow my own beard now, and my breasts aren't too puffy anymore."

I smiled. "I'm so glad…"

He nodded. "I didn't mean to get so carried away about it. But… yeah. That's the story of me in a nutshell. A big nutshell, but a nutshell all the same."

"Well, either way, you're perfect to us, okay, Marco? I'm glad you told us, because… now I think I understand the whole 'transgender' bit a little better."

"So…" Star started, cautious. "Does this mean you have, like… boy bits?" Even she felt bad saying that. We all felt awkward _hearing_ it.

Marco grimaced, appreciative of the sentiment, but also feeling just very awkward about it himself. After all, it was _his_ body being thrown under the examination table. "No… And I don't know if I'll really want to. The surgery for that is… really expensive, and as far as I know, it doesn't even function. Plus, I might want babies of my own one day." He took a deep breath, the exhale indicative of just how badly he wanted to get off this topic. I could only imagine how hard it must've been for him; sure, he was able to say all he'd wanted to, but it was probably just weird now. "Well… I'm glad you guys were supportive of me, and didn't think I was, y'know, weird or unnatural."

"Oh, we'd never think of you as unnatural, Marco! Weird, sure, but never unnatural." She slapped him on the back.

"Yeah! Yeah… ow… thanks, though." I helped rub the spot that was now sore. "But I wanna move on to other stuff now, y'know? I just talked everyone's ears off, and even then… I need something to move onto after all this stuff about _me_."

"Do video games sound nice to you?" Ferguson suggested.

"Yeah, that's fine." He smiled and nodded, petting my head. "That sounds great, actually." He scratched behind my ear, and I nearly melted in his arms before he stretched and rose. "What do you guys wanna play?"


End file.
